Trials of a Social Divide
by Myra109
Summary: Tiffany Adderson hated Greasers until she met Sodapop Curtis. Can he change her opinion? Or will she take stereotypes over love? Promote by Emolichic1
1. Secrets we Share

_Prompt from Emolicich1. Read and Review!_

 _Warnings: slight hints of verbal abuse_

* * *

Greasers. Hoods. Scumbags. That's what we ALL call them. They do nothing but tear up this town and scare off good classy citizens and by 'citizens', I mean the Westside Soc.

I'm driving this shiny Blue Mustang. It's darker in paint than most Mustangs are, more like a sapphire than a sky blue. I was told to buy some things from- what is it called- the DX?

I am shocked as I pull up to see these Hoods in their leather jackets.

They were all tough looking boys with these cold smoldering eyes. I am definitely not wanted.

One guy walked up like he owned the place. "Lost doll," he smiled wickedly. He was wasted. I recognized him as Tim Shepard, one of the toughest hoods alive. "We hate Socs..." He took a drag of his cigarette. It was a Cool. Only Greasers smoked Cools. "Want one?" he asked, not so nicely.

"I know people like you, Tim Shepard," I shouted. This guy was always in trouble with the law. He had a criminal record. Rumor was that he slashed someone's throat and got away with it.

"How would you like it if I got us a room...?"

By 'room,' I knew what he was hinting at.

I slapped him and his head spun around, leaving my mouth open at what I had done.

His little brother whistled behind us. I glared at the cat calling teenager and the offender that I had slapped before storming off. Stomping into the gasoline station, I began to gather the things I needed as quickly as I could. I heard that this gasoline station is full of Greasers. I slammed the objects on the counter, watching out the windows for any sign of the Shepard gang, prepared to slap one of them again if they came near me.

"Sorry 'bout them," the guy behind the counter said. I looked up and blushed. The clerk had pale skin and wheat gold hair, heavily greased, that was almost to his shoulders it was so long. His brown eyes were lively and dancing, twinkling in the sunlight with amusement. "Not all Greasers are like that."

"Doubt that," I said, trying not to feel attracted to someone that had more grease in his hair than necessary. "Just ring me up."

"What's your name?" He questioned with a charming smile.

"Tiffany, Tiffany Quinn Adderson."

"Well, I am Sodapop, Sodapop Patrick Curtis. Most people call me Soda though."

I looked at him like he was stupid. "You gotta be joking."

"If I had a dime for every time someone doubted that Soda was my real name, I'd live in a manor," he chuckled. "Hey, are you related to Randy Adderson?" he asked as he rung up some air fresheners for my car.

"He's my older brother, why?" I snapped, defensively, trying not to get lost in the liquid pools that he called eyes.

"I think he's friends with my kid brother. I'm not sure though. I think it's more of an alliance or something. It's all very confusing."

"What's his name?"

"Ponyboy. He's a few years below Randy," Soda smiled and I could tell he was proud of his little brother.

"Is he fourteen?"

"Almost fifteen, why?"

"He's in a few of my classes."

"Oh, so you're fourteen, too?"

"Turned fifteen last month. You?" I raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Seventeen."

He bagged the items and placed it in my hand. "There you go, Tiffany. Hope to see you again."

"Don't count on it, Greaser." Yet, deep down, I knew I'd be returning soon. That Sodapop Curtis was something.

* * *

Sure enough, I was back the next week and in a bad mood. All I wanted was a coke and a bag of chips. You see, I'm a stress eater and the boat load of tests right around the corner and my cracking friendship with Cherry were not helping me at all.

What? She had a crush on Steve Randall, the Greaser! I was sure that he was a jerk, but she thought he had a soft side. Yeah right!

I waltzed in and grabbed my desired items before placing them on the counter.

"Bad day?" Soda asked.

"You wouldn't believe."

"Come on."

"Fine, I need to vent anyway. My school is piling up our work. On top of studying for finals, they expect us to do all these study guides and packets and worksheets. The fact that one of my best friends won't talk to me isn't helping either. "

"Why won't she talk to you? If you don't mind me asking," Soda rushed to tell me.

"I don't mind. Her name's Sherri, but we call her Cherry because she has red hair."

"I know her. Last time I saw her though, we were in court after the incident."

I nodded. Everyone knew about what had happened with Bob and the JDs/heroes.

"Well, anyway, she has a crush on this greaser- no offense- and I'm not a fan of him. I hear from people that he's a jerk and I don't want her to get hurt."

"What's his name?"

"Steve Randall."

Soda stopped ringing the items up. "He's a good guy, you know," he said carefully. "My best friend since kindergarden."

I straightened. I'm not a fan of greasers, but Soda seemed like a good guy. "Oh, I didn't mean-"

He smiled. "It's fine. Steve acts like a jerk, but only because he's afraid. "

"Of what?" I questioned, curiously.

"I've asked him that so many times that I've lost track. Maybe he's afraid of getting hurt. His dad's hurt him enough times for a life time."

"I can relate." He looked at me in disbelief. "My mom is always pressuring me to be perfect, get perfect grades, lose ten pounds or no guys'll like you, stuff like that. She'd kill me if she knew I was eating chips right now. What about your parents?"

Soda stiffened. "My mom and dad are dead."

"Oh, um, I'm so sorry."

"Relax, you didn't know."

"Sooo... who takes care of you?"

He grinned. "My older brother, Darry. He's twenty."

"Wow. You know, sometimes, I wonder if Randy would do that for me," I blurted.

He looked up in shock. "Of course he would."

"I don't think so. He's kind of lost touch with the family. I bet when he graduates, he'll be out the door like a shot. Maybe he won't even come home on graduation day. He might just leave." Damn it, me and my stupid mouth. I'd just told a guy I barely knew one of my deepest secrets! Why did I do stuff like that?

He leaned against the counter as if debating whether or not to tell me a something. "I wondered the same thing about Darry and look where we are now. We're happy and doing okay. I'm sure that if the situation required it, Randy would take you in like Darry did for me and Pony."

Although I wasn't totally convinced, I smiled. "Thanks, Soda."

"Anytime. Stop by whenever you need to vent, 'kay? Pony showed me that holding in your feelings isn't healthy."

"You too, Soda, you too." I walked out, grinning slightly at the confused look on Soda's face. He'd understand someday and I, Tiffany Quinn Adderson, would make sure of that.


	2. Older Brothers and Friends

_Thanks to all that reviewed on the first chapter! Please, read and review on the second! Sorry for the long awaited update, but I will try to keep them more frequent from now on._

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders.**

 _Warnings: language_

* * *

"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the stupidest of them all?!" I snapped, glaring at my reflection. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

 _*Flashback*_

 _I'd gone to the DX for the third time that week if only to see Sodapop, although I would never admit that. As he was ringing up my Coke, I examined him and had to fight down a blush and try in vain to control the butterflies in my stomach. Let's just say it didn't work._

 _Soda was more than handsome; if I didn't know better, I'd say he was beautiful. His hair was down today, brushing his shoulders, and for some reason, he'd chosen not to wear hair grease. That struck me as weird and I could tell that the guy in the back, Steve Randall, thought so too. Occasionally, he'd ask him why he wasn't wearing hair grease and Soda would reply that it was a special occasion. Today, he wore a gray T-shirt without stains (most of his shirts had oil or grease on them) and a pair of jeans that weren't ripped or torn. Even his tennis shoes were less dirty and dusty than normal._

 _When I walked in, Soda immediately straightened and stared at me as I got a Coke out of the fridge towards the back of the store and approached the counter._

 _"Um, hi, Tiffany," he stammered, ringing up my lone item without taking his eyes off of me. For a moment, we just stared at each other until he blurted out in a rush, "Will you go on a date with me?"_

 _My brown eyes widened and I heard a crash, followed by Steve cursing up a storm in the back. I'm not sure if he was just clumsy or if Soda's question had shocked him, but I was guessing the latter._

 _"Sure," I said, smoothly, but to me, it sounded like I choked it out. Then, I stopped; why had I said that?! So what if he skipped the hair grease today or dressed semi-decent? He was still a Greaser!_

 _Soda sighed in relief. "Are you available on Friday night at seven?"_

 _"Yeah," I nodded. "Where do you want to go?"_

 _"Well, there's a nice restaurant and it's right in between the East and West side, where the middle class live. Let's face it, we both know if we eat on either side of Tulsa, something bad'll happen, due to the rivalry. It's called Herman and Sherman, so all I need is your address and I'll pick you up at seven."_

 _I quickly scrawled it down on the back of my receipt and slid it across the corner before leaving with one last smile in the blonde's direction._

 _*Flashback ended*_

It was Friday, six-thirty, and I was nervous. I wore a nice dress, nothing too fancy but not one of those 'I just rolled out of bed' outfits. It was blue with purple strings sown onto the bottom, the waistline, and the bottom of the short sleeves. I was wearing silver flats on my small feet and had tamed my unruly, brown curls into a decent look, pulled back with a blue headband. I wore no make up for the first time in a long time and I didn't know what possessed me to believe that I didn't need make up because let's face it, I'm no pageant Queen.

"What's the occasion?" A voice broke into my train of thought and I looked up in the mirror to see my older brother standing in the doorway. He still had that mass of dark brown curls on his head and those brown eyes that were a shade darker than mine. His sharp features were etched into his face like stone with him hardly ever showing emotions. Tonight, he'd changed into an old blue T-shirt and jeans and was drinking from a Fanta soda can (he, for some reason, prefers Fanta over Coke and Pepsi, which is what everyone else drinks).

"Hello, Randy," I laughed and he looked at me weirdly. Laughter is a rare occasion on my part. "For your information, I have a date tonight."

"Really, with who?" He asked, taking a sip from his soda can.

"Sodapop Curtis." And he promptly spit the orange liquid out of his mouth and I burst into hysterical laughter.

"You, the girl who hates Greasers more than she hates snakes, spiders, and Mom combined is going on a date with a Greaser? What kind of alternate universe have I stepped into?" He looked around as if expecting something to have changed or that a meteor would come hurtling toward our house in a matter of seconds.

I giggled. "Soda's actually a good guy, but he will be the only exception to the I Hate Greasers rule."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you met his brother, Ponyboy Curtis, like really got to know him. Seriously, Bob, my 'friends', and I nearly killed him and his friend and he forgave me! That kid's special and I'm glad that you're going out with his brother."

"Why?" I questioned.

"The worst thing I've heard about Soda is that he dropped out of school and even that, he got a job to help his brother pay the bills! I think he's a good guy, and I think that you'll both benefit from this relationship." With that very puzzling statement, Randy left the room and for a moment, I didn't move until I heard a knock on the door.

"I got it!" I yelled, nearly running over my dad in order to get to the door first. Opening it, I smiled and then, a tingling sensation began in my toes and a twisting, turning feeling swirled around in my stomach.

Soda looked wonderful. His blonde hair had been trimmed into an even line along his shoulders instead of having strands of hair all different lengths. He'd, once again, skipped the hair grease, but his hair still shined in the moonlight, contrasting with his pale skin. Lively and happy, his brown eyes glowed against a back drop of snow. He wore a nice blue shirt, tucked into a pair of nice jeans and he wore black and white tennis shoes. I know it sounds like he's under dressed, but by Greaser standards, he looks like a prince.

"Wow," he mumbled, "you look beautiful."

* * *

SODA'S POV

I combed my hair for what must have been the thirtieth time that night and continued to stare at myself in the mirror, searching for one flaw, one spot of dirt, one stain on my clothes.

"You know, if you keep combing your hair, it's all gonna fall out," a voice drawled from behind me. I glowered at him in the mirror.

"Shut up, Dally," I snapped, pulling a comb through my perfectly straight hair. He laughed and I glared at his reflection in the glass as he left the bathroom, probably to find Johnny (ever since the incident, Dally had stuck to Johnny like glue).

"So, Darry, how do I look?" I asked, stepping out of the bathroom and facing my older brother. He looked me over with widened eyes.

"Wow. Even when you were with Sandy, I never saw you dress this well," he chuckled, clapping me on the back. "Who are you going out with anyway?"

"She comes in the store all the time!" Steve input, shouting over the Micky Mouse theme song. "Two Bit, turn it down!"

"You can't kill Micky!"

"Seriously, I think I tore my ear drum!"

"Oh man, why couldn't it tear your tongue, so we wouldn't have to listen to you anymore!"

"I oughta-"

"Calm down, you two," Darry commanded, firmly. "Two Bit, turn down the TV or I'll take the remote and no more Micky."

The joker rushed to hit the volume button, "Sorry, Darry."

The elder turned back to me. "So what's her name?"

"Tiffany, Tiffany Quinn Adderson."

"Adderson?!" Ponyboy exclaimed from the couch, where he was sitting with Johnny and Dally. About that, before I can continue on, you should know that someone up above had been watching out for Johnny. He'd not only survived, but would have full use of his legs back in a couple of months!

"Yeah, Randy's her older brother."

"He never mentioned a sister," Pony realized.

"Well, in the beginning, Tiffany hated Greasers, but she did say yes to a date, so I think she's warming up to Greasers. Or at least me, and liking one is better than hating all Greasers, right?" I explained.

There were noises of agreement around the room.

"Look, Soda," Darry began, carefully. "I don't want to say this like I hate Socs because after everything that happened, I don't hate all Socs. But, just in case, if she says anything or does anything to you tonight, tell me and I'll put her in a hospital, girl or not."

"Thanks, Darry," I laughed, "but I don't think you'll need to."

With that, I hopped into Two Bit's car (I was borrowing it for the night) and sped towards Tiffany's house. When I arrived, I stared at the door for a good minute and a half before lightly rapping upon it.

Thank goodness, Tiffany answered the door; it would've been awkward talking to anyone else in her family, even Randy. My mouth dropped open and I could almost hear Sandy saying in my ear, 'close your mouth, Soda. You'll let the flies in!' That was her catchphrase.

Tiffany was dressed in a blue dress that reached her knees and purple stripes had been sown along the bottom, waistline, and at the bottom of the short sleeves. Her sliver flats seemed to sparkle in the porch light. Pulled back in a blue headband, her chestnut brown curls glowed and not one hair was out of place. She wore no make up and I personally thought she looked better without it. Without blush, I could see how well her brown hair contrasted with her pale skin and all of the tiny freckles speckled across her nose and cheekbones looked adorable on her. Without eye shadow and mascara, her chocolate brown eyes seemed to shine all the more and I could tell she was examining me. I prayed that that was a good thing.

"Wow," I gasped. "You look beautiful."

And I meant it.

* * *

 _One again, I am so sorry for the long awaited update. Real life can be a pain sometimes. Anyway, thank you for being patient and please, review! I'll be updating my stories, Bound to Get Burned and Accidental Switch next, so keep an eye out for those and feel free to give me suggestions on any of my stories._

 _-Myra109_


	3. Reality Check

_I'm sorry for my absence, but thanks for sticking around and I've decided to do something new. I'll be responding to all of my amazing reviewers in each chapter. Read and Review!_

 _iiWolvesofRuin: thank you for the amazing review! I fell in love with the Outsiders too after I read it for class!_

 _Emolich1: Thank for both of your reviews and the prompt itself._

 _Moniacus113: Thank you! :)_

 _Unknown Identity 90: Thank you so much for the review!_

 _Moniquian Rose: Thanks!_

 _Thank for all the favs and follows as well!_

* * *

Tiffany sat up straight in her chair, tapping her fingers on the table that was covered by a white tablecloth. Silverware and miniature plates were placed on the table neatly and Soda was seated across from her, pursing his lips, anxiously.

"So..." He finally spoke awkwardly, "what's your favorite color?"

"Blue," she responded, "what's your's?"

"Green," he replied. "I'm so sorry; I didn't expect this to be so awkward," Soda tried to laugh, but it came out kind of choked.

"It's okay; I've been on worse dates," she told him, off handedly.

This time Soda's chuckle was more realistic this time around. "I bet I've been on wielder ones."

She stared at him with her chin out and her nose high before accepting. "You're on. My first date I spilled Coke all over my date. My second one, I had a nosebleed half way through and spent the entire date with a tissue pressed to my nose. And the third..." She nearly dissolved into laughter, "I was dared to date the biggest loser in school for one week and dump him in the most public manner!"

Soda's smile dropped. "That's horrible."

Tiffany shrugged. "They gave me twenty books for each day I went out with him and an extra ten when I dumped him in front of the whole school! I think it was worth it."

"Who was it?" Soda asked, trying to act casual while circling his water glass with his finger.

"Some red head greaser, youngest kid in school. He's some kind of a genius, skipped the eighth grade. I can't even remember his name, Horse Kid or something stupid like that," she giggled.

Soda snapped his head up to glare at her. "Ponyboy?"

"Yeah! That's it! What a stupid name! My friends actually ask him if he's-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Soda almost shouted. "That's my brother, Adderson. My inoccent kid brother that has been through too much crap in his life to be forced to deal with the likes of you! You know, I tried to look past your history of hating Greasers and bullying others, but I can't. Not when it gets my little brother hurt!"

He threw a five dollar bill on the table to pay for his drink and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving a shocked Tiffany Quinn Adderson alone.

* * *

Tiffany felt horrible. She ran home, not caring if she was sweaty or her feet were aching or that she was getting a stich in her side. Bursting into her house, Tiffany shoved past Randy and stamped up the steps, holding back her tears, a waterfall that threatened to drown her.

"Tiff! Tiff, what's wrong? What happened?" Randy screamed after her, following her up the steps.

She slammed the door in his face and slid to the floor.

For the first time in her entire life, Tiffany Quinn Adderson felt guilty for something she'd done. She never thought that Greasers mattered until she met Sodapop. He was the kindest person she'd ever met with his lively brown eyes and his charming smile.

Was she really falling for a Greaser? A hood, a gangster, a- a...

But Soda wasn't like that. He was a gentleman that tried to make the most of being poor and working at a gas station in a town that was at war. But, nothing- not a girl, not a friend, not money- nothing would tear his family apart. Soda wouldn't allow that.

She'd hurt an innocent kid that turned into a hero. Ponyboy Curtis had rescued a group of school kids, even though it almost killed him and his friend. She was a horrible person. She was-

Oh, what was she saying? She wasn't a bad person. That loser was a Greaser, a juvenile delinquent. He aided in killing Bob Shelton, her sibling's best friend and her honorary big brother. He almost got her brother thrown in jail for physical assault and maybe attempted murder if the lawyer was brave enough to press that. He almost tore apart Tiffany's life.

How could she care about his brother? He was probably just like him, waiting to strike her and shatter her heart at the least expected moment. Well, she didn't care anymore.

At that moment, Tiffany swore never to love again. She locked up her heart, threw it in a safe, and forced herself to forget the combination. No one would ever break her heart again. Not like Caleen Neal... not like Kyle Saleen... not like Sodapop Curtis. Never again.

A sharp knock jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Tiffany? Are you okay?" Randy asked.

"I'm fine, Randy," she gasped, her tears choking her. "Just a date gone wrong."

"He wasn't like... Kyle, was he?" Randy whispered.

"No," she said, frantically. "It's just... do you remember when I broke up with that Greaser in front of the entire school a few months ago?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That was his younger brother," a sob escaped her. "Randy, am I bad person?"

"No, no, Tiffany. You made a mistake; that doesn't make you a bad person as long as you own up to and do everything in your power to fix it," Randy advised. "Like I did with Ponyboy and Johnny."

"Thanks, Randy."

"I know you don't want to come out, but I'm going to stay right here in case you need anything." She heard shuffling and she knew that Randy was sitting in the same position as her on the other side of the door.

"Thanks, big brother."

"Love you, little sis."

* * *

Tiffany didn't leave her room for three days. She had her own bathroom and she had a twelve pack of coke in her room that she'd forgotten about after a sleepover with her friends. All in all, she had enough to stay in her room for a few days without seeing anyone.

Randy slid plates of food and packages of snack food under her door and she could barely stomach those. She didn't even know what was going on.

Tiffany couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate. Her brown curls were falling out in clumps. She didn't see a point in trying anymore.

Randy called this a 'Heart Break Slump'. When you truly like someone and you break it off with them, it sends you into a depression of sorts. He suffered it when Marsha broke his heart and ran off with a senior named Noah Wheeler. Randy hadn't left his room for a week until Tiffany had picked the lock on the door and talked him into going to the Nightly Double with her.

But she'd only known Soda for less than a week. How could this be sending her into a Heart Break Slump?

Maybe it was a reality check. Maybe this was a wake up call, screaming, "Hey, Tiffany, you've been a real jerk. Time to fix that!"

She knew what she had to do. Tiffany dressed quickly, but not in a flashy outfit as she typically would.

Instead, she dawned a green T-shirt with a worn peace sign on the front and a pair of old jeans. Her sneakers were old and dirty, but they still fit as comfortably as they had when she went to summer camp a few months ago.

Tiffany descended the stairs and hugged Randy quickly before she hopped on her bike. It was a bit rusty as it hadn't been used since she was thirteen, almost fourteen. Pedaling was hard, but she started gliding with ease, loving the feeling of the wind on her face and her brown hair streaming behind her like a sheet of silk.

Much to soon, she braked in front of a run down house with peeling paint and the door wide open, leaving a view of the living room through the glass door.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the door of the Curtis home...

And she rang the door bell.

* * *

 _Please read and review! Hoped you liked the chapter!_

 _Feel free to leave any ideas you have for the story and I'll try to weave them in to make the story better, although I make no promises._

 _I'll try to update sooner this time._


	4. Hearts of Glass

_Sorry for the long awaited update! My deepest apologies._

 _Warnings: very, very brief mentions of sex but not graphic at all, language, verbal abuse_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders_**

* * *

The door was opened by a blonde boy with greenish gray eyes and nearly transparent skin. He wore a baggy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans. His eyes widened at the sight of Tiffany Adderson standing upon his doorstop.

"Ponyboy," she mumbled, "is Soda home?

He glared at her. "Why do you wanna know?"

"I, um, I just need to talk to him about... the other night," she murmured, the small amount of courage she had mustered up leaving her at the sight of the boy she had bullied. "Pony, I'm really sorry about everything I've said and did to you and to Soda. Please, just bring him out here."

He stared at her coldly. "I will, but first, we need to talk, Adderson."

Ponyboy shut the door behind him as he stepped out onto the porch and glared at her.

"Tiffany Quinn Adderson, you make Soda very happy; I don't think I've seen him this happy since Mom and Dad were alive. Even when he was with Sandy, he was never this happy or cheerful. He loves you, and I am willing to overlook our rivalry and the fact that you bullied me for my older brother because I love him."

"Thank you," she gasped in relief.

"But," she deflated as he continued, "I will not overlook you hurting Sodapop. You've hurt him, and if he forgives you, I will as well. But if you ever hurt him again, he may overlook it or ignore it, but I will not. Understood?" He glowered at her.

"Yes, I understand completely and I am here to show him that I love him just as much, if not more," Tiffany confessed.

Ponyboy nodded. "I'll go get him, but Tiffany, please, I have never done anything to you or asked you for anything. Just do me a favor and don't break my brother. You're not the only one that needs him."

He whirled around and slammed the door in her face. It opened moments later, and Sodapop Patrick Curtis steppes out to face her.

"Tiffany," he greeted, voice and expression as hard as stone.

"Soda, I am so sorry," she said, choking back a sob. "And I will do anything to get you to forgive me. I've apologized to Pony and I'm going to find away to make it up to him. And now, I'm saying sorry to you and I will do anything to earn your forgiveness. Just... name your price, Soda."

He shook his head, and she could see tears brimming his brown eyes. "You really hurt me, Tiffany, and you hurt my kid brother. I don't know if that is forgivable."

"Soda, I will get down on my knees if I need to because I care about you. It's just... you remember Bob Shelton?" She blurted and cursed herself. She'd never told anyone about her big brother feelings towards Bob; even Randy thought they were just good friends, not family.

He nodded, warily.

"Randy has known Bob since he was around two, therefore I've known him since I was born. He was like my big brother and I know that he made a lot of bad decisions, but that didn't stop me from looking up to him. When he died and I know it was self defense, but still, when you lose your brother... you start looking for someone to blame. The person I chose happened to be your brother, Soda."

He looked so shocked that Tiffany almost laughed or cried, whichever came first. Did everyone think that she didn't have feelings? Did she just give out that vibe?

She sighed. "I wasn't the same after Bob died and no one else was either. Randy was depressed and my parents went off the deep end because Bob was like their adopted son. None of those things helped. Soda, I've made a lot of mistakes, maybe because I've been following Bob's path, the person I've looked up to since I was a baby. And Soda, you started changing me, I wouldn't be here apologizing if you didn't. I need you, Soda. I don't want to see die at eighteen like Bob did, but even I'll admit that that's where I'm heading because no one has been trying to save me. You're the first one the even tried."

Her voice was breaking wildly, much to her horror.

"I forgive you, TQA," a voice broke into her thoughts.

"You shouldn't," she sniffed, looking at the sidewalk.

"Well, I do," Soda tilted her head up, so that she could look into his eyes and he stroked her tear soaked face. The rain pitter pattered upon the ground. She hadn't even realized it'd begun to rain. "Tiffany Quinn Adderson, I love you, and I'm going to trust you. I haven't trusted since Sandy dumped me."

"I haven't trusted since Bob died, so I guess we're in the same boat," she whimpered and he hugged her.

She never done this before- breaking down on anyone, much less a Greaser's, shoulder. Yet, tears soaked Soda's shoulder.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, I need you to promise me something."

He pulled back to look her in the eye, but kept his arms wrapped tightly around her. "What is it?"

"I'm going to give you my heart of glass, and I'm going trust you not to break it. I'll start unlocking it, but you have to promise not to make me regret this," she whispered.

"I promise," he pecked her on the lips just as the door opened.

"Holy shit, Soda, you're gonna get hypertherm... ia," Darry's mouth dropped open at the sight before him. "Uh, did I interrupt something?"

"Darry, I told you about Tiffany. She's apologized and I'm willing to try again if she is." He turned to her.

"Did you even have to ask?" She giggled.

"Darry, can I borrow the truck to take her home?"

"Sure," Darry smiled slightly. "Go right ahead."

"I'll load up your bike, " Soda offered. As soon as he was out of earshot, Tiffany turned to Darry.

"Sir, I know this is something a boy asks a girl's father, but I've always been known for being different. I want to ask you for your blessing to date Sodapop," she said.

Darry looked momentarily shocked before he grinned. "Tiffany, I can tell that you make Sodapop happy, and that's all I want for him. Just don't break him or I'll break you, got it?"

She nodded with a smile.

"I'm not getting any younger," Soda called jokingly and Tiffany said goodbye before hopping into the passengers seat.

The car ride was silent for a while until we were eight down the street from her house.

"You wanna go out Friday night? It can be our first official date, and we can pray nothing goes wrong," he laughed.

"Well, don't jinx it!" Tiffany giggled. "And you didn't even have to ask."

She kissed him lightly in the cheek, causing him to blush, before racing inside.

* * *

"Where have you been?!" Her mother screeched as Tiffany hesitantly stepped inside.

"Um, I was out with Sodapop," she mumbled as her mom towered over her.

Jennifer Adderson snorted. "Sodapop? Now, that lie was just pathetic. What boy would want you? "

"Soda does!" Tiffany snapped.

"There are no boys names Soda, so stop lying to me, young lady," the woman glared harshly.

"His name is Sodapop Curtis, and he is re-" She realized her mistake too late as she clamped her mouth shut.

Jenny's brown eyes widened. "Curtis... as in Ponyboy Curtis? That juvenile delinquent? What is wrong with you? Are you really so desperate that you're sleeping around with some hood?"

"It was our first date!" Tiffany shouted. "We did not engage in that, and Soda is not a hood! He's different! On that note, Ponyboy was a hero, not a juvenile delinquent!"

"Bring that boy by for Sunday dinner next week and I'll decide for myself, Trinity Adderson!" Her mother stormed into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her,

"It's Tiffany," she murmured.

Her mother didn't approve of anyone, much less a Greaser (Jenny hated them with a passion). What was she going to do?

* * *

 _This is going to be a 100 chapter story, so I do except requests/ideas. Feel free to leave one in my PM or in a review. Thanks._


	5. Sunday Dinner

_this chapter does possess some hints of verbal abuse but nothing graphic, and also some language. Read and Review!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing at all._**

* * *

"Relax, Tif, parents love me," Soda laughed, flashing her a dazzling smile.

"My parents don't love anyone, Soda, except maybe themselves," she murmured as she stared up at her own house, but this place was far from home. It was her prison. "Let's get this over with. Just remember, don't talk back, be polite, and don't speak unless spoken too. We might just get through this night unscathed."

Leading a very confused Sodapop into the house, they were immediately greeted by Tiffany's mother.

They would've looked alike, but the differences were huge and definitely noticeable. They both had dark, wavy hair, and ghostly pale skin with sharp, delicate features that made them look beautiful. Both were supermodel thin and tall, Tiffany only being an inch shorter than 5'11 Sodapop. But Tiffany's mother wore so much makeup, it was hideous and she dawned a violet dress that reached her ankles with a white, long sleeved jacket. She dawned necklaces of all colors and prices and golden bracelets that shined and glinted on her wrists. Her hair was pulled over her shoulders and her face was split in a forced smile.

"Hello, I am Andrea Adderson, and you are?" She greeted, stiffly, with a bow of her head but she absolutely refused to shake his hand.

"Sodapop Curtis, Miss," he responded.

Andrea wrinkled her nose. "Do you have a middle name?"

"Patrick, Ms. Adderson," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. "I suppose it'll have to do. I'll be calling you that from now on."

Tiffany could tell Soda wanted to pounce on her mother and slap her for calling him by his middle name instead of the name his creative and witty father gave him, but he wouldn't. He was too polite for that, and he cared for Tiffany too much to let this woman get in the way of their relationship.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, dinner will be ready in roughly five minutes. Why don't you meet my husband and son?" Andrea gestured to the living room before vanishing into the dining room.

"What's got her panties in a twist?" Soda muttered.

Tiffany shrugged. "I love my mom, but I don't think she's capable of loving anyone except herself. Come on, let's go talk to Randy."

Tiffany escorted him into the living room, where a teenage boy with curly brown hair and pale skin sat on the sofa, drinking Fanta while watching monster trucks.

"Randy!" She called and her brother turned around, switching off the television.

"Tiffany, and Sodapop Curtis!" He said with a grin. "Nice to see you again."

"You too, Randy."

"Trinity, get in here!" Andrea's voice called from the dining room.

"It's Tiffany," said girl muttered. "Coming, Mother!"

She glowed at Randy, her message clear: don't do anything stupid.

Then she left the boys alone.

"Look, Soda, I don't know you too well, but from what I've heard from Pony, you're a good guy. My sister has been through a lot of shit in her life from our neglectful and selfish mother to ex boyfriends that just try to get in her pants and then toss her aside like trash. Then there's... Bob and she's really confused about all these Greasers and Socs and all the changes in this town. So whatever you do, don't break her heart, Sodapop Curtis, or I will look for you and I will find you. And I will kill you," Randy growled ominously

"Well, one, I'm not gonna break her heart. I've had my heart broken enough times to know that it's not a good feeling. And two, was that a Taken reference?"

Randy looked impressed. "You recognized it. You've earned my respect. Don't lose it, got it?"

"Got it," Soda grinned.

"Robert, Carter, Peter!" Andrea called. "Dinner's ready!"

"Did she just call me Peter?" Soda asked.

"She always gets names wrong. Since she told you she's calling you by your middle name, you're lucky she got it somewhat right. My Dad's name is Adam Neal Adderson," Randy said with a smile, but there was little humor too it.

"Get in here, boys!" Andrea snapped and Soda inwardly groaned.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Tiffany, how many times have I told you to eat with your right hand?!" Andrea snapped, yanking the fork from her daughter's fingers and forcing it into her right hand.

Soda was positively fuming, and he could almost imagine smoke spilling from his ears like in those Mackey Mouse cartoons. How dare she treat Tiffany like this?! Tiffany was great; so what if she was left handed or if her back wasn't straight or if she ate some junk food once in a while. It's not like anyone can be perfect.

But Tiffany gave him a look, and he kept his trap shut.

Andrea suddenly cleared her throat, and Soda looked up to see her glowering at her husband, gesturing with her head to Soda.

For a moment, Adam appeared perplexed but then he seemed to realize what she wanted.

"So, young man, what is your name?" He questioned.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, sir," Soda responded, feeling the need of sit up straighter under the man's stern glare.

"Unusual name. Why are you named that?"

"My father was very creative and he liked to stand out. He always thrived on the looks of disbelief and suprise people gave him every time he said my name, so... yeah," Soda trailed off awkwardly.

"What about your family? Do your parents make good income?"

"My parents passed away last year, sir. I live with my older brother, Darry, and the income is good enough. We're not rich, but we're paying the pills and we're not starving on the streets, so I'd call that good income," Soda replied stiffly.

"What about school and your grades?"

"I, um, I dropped out, sir, and I work at the DX. I'm really good with mechanics and money, and I'm looking into getting a job at a mechanics garage after my younger brother graduates," Soda said.

Adam pursed his lips before going back to eating without another word.

But that meant Andrea found the perfect time to jump in. "You work at a gasoline station? Tiffany, what on earth were you thinking bringing this boy into my home?! He's a worthless, uneducated, lazy idiot!"

Sodapop had had enough. He shot to his feet before Tiffany could even get over her shock of her mother's sudden outburst to glare.

"Look, Ms. Adderson, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you have no right to speak to me or your children like you do! Just because I'm poor does not mean I'm worthless, and just because I'm uneducated and not academically talented does not make me an idiot or lazy. In fact, I bet I know more about life and have worked than you ever have. So lay off of me and your kids because they sure as hell deserve better than you," Soda snarled before kissing Tiffany on the cheek, grabbing his coat, and storming out.

"Soda, wait!" Tiffany called as she raced out after him. "I'm sorry for my mom."

"It's not your fault, Tiffany," Soda smiled reassuringly. "I'm loyal, defensive, and sensitive about the whole school thing. But I still love you and even if your parents don't like me, I hope we can still go out."

Tiffany giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "Of course we can, Sodapop. How's next Friday? We can meet at your place and you can pick the activity."

"I'd like that. Thanks for not being upset, Tif," Soda said, red with shame over what he'd said to her mother.

Tiffany just laughed. "Sorry? Soda, you just did what I've been wanting to do for years. Thank you for standing up to her for me, and even if she doesn't approve of you, I won't let her stop me from dating you, my a Prince Charming." She giggled.

He snorted. "Far from it, but it can be your Frog Prince. Goodnight, my Princess." He kissed her on the lips and disappeared down the street.

"He's a good guy," Randy told her as he stepped outside. "Dont let him go, Tif, because I got a feeling he's gonna change out lives for the better."

"Agreed, Randy. Agreed."

* * *

 _well, there's another chapter done. Sorry for the long delay, but I got caught up with school and kept forgetting to update. Feel free to leave suggestions for this story and I will try to fit those ideas in. Thanks!_


	6. Double Date

_I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, but school and trying to keep up to date with my other stories really takes a lot out of me and by the time I get to this story, I procrastinate badly. Thank you for waiting, though!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

BRING! BRING!

"Hello, Tiffany speaking," she spoke into the phone as she fumbled with her book, trying to get it open to the correct page using one hand.

"Hey, Tiffany. Sorry we haven't talked in a while," a familiar, female voice spoke up.

Tiffany's face lit up and she all but threw her book off her lap. "Cherry, how have you been?"

"Great. I'm dating Steve now," she said, albeit a tad cautiously, obviously remembering Tiffany's reaction to her crush.

"That's fantastic. Soda's told me all about him and he sounds like a really nice guy," Tiffany said with a grin, remembering all those stories Soda had told her about Steve helping Soda when he got jumped and standing up for the blonde when someone insulted him. He truly did sound great, and she knew he was right for Cherry Valance, who needed a fair mix of both adventure and safety, which Steve Randall could give her.

"I heard you're dating Soda now," Cherry said, her voice happier. "How's that going for you?"

"Fantastic. Soda's really changed me, and for the better."

"I can tell. When I said I was dating Steve, you didn't hang up or yell at me like you would've done before."

"Yeah, sorry about that by the way. I didn't mean any of it."

"I know you didn't, Tif. Hey, you wanna hang out this weekend, maybe Friday?"

"Actually, I'm going out with Soda, but if it's alright with him, you and Steve can come along. We could have a double date."

"That sounds great. I've never been on a double date before."

"Neither have I," Tiffany laughed. "I'm gonna call Soda and I'll call you back tomorrow with the details. That alright?"

"Of course. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye."

"Bye." Tiffany hung up and dialed the Curtis' number.

"Yello!" A cheery voice said into the phone.

"Soda," she said. "About that date Friday night. Do you think we could have a double date with Cherry and Steve? Maybe just go out to eat or something?"

"Of course. Steve and I almost always go on double dates with our girlfriends. I'm suprised we haven't gone already, actually- wait. Did you say Steve's dating Cherry, as in Cherry Valance?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Um, Tif, I'm gonna have to call you back. STEVEN!"

Tiffany laughed and hit the end button.

Her first double date.

* * *

That Friday, Tiffany and Soda stood in front of a middle class restaurant called Clark's, waiting for the redhead and dark haired Greaser to arrive.

They both dressed nicely, but not over the top. Soda wore a button up, pale blue shirt with the collar folded down and a nice pair of jeans with no rips. His tennis shoes had a few grease spots, but were otherwise spotless. Greased and combed, his hair was in a long ponytail that rested against the top of his back.

Tiffany, on the other hand, wore a nice baby blue summer dress that reached just above her knees with silver flats. She wore no make up, but still looked beautiful (honestly, Soda thought she looked more beautiful without make up) and her wavy, dark hair had been left down to flow down her back.

"This will be a new experience," Tiffany broke the silence.

Soda shrugged. "I've been on double dates before, but only with spunky girls that wear tons of make up and have colorfully dyed hair. I'm really not sure how to act around Cherry. It's one thing when she's Pony's friend, but now she's Steve's girlfriend and-"

Tiffany cut Soda off with a light peck on the lips. "Cherry really likes you, and Steve's your best friend. You don't have any reason to be uncomfortable, so just let go and relax because trust me, they'll be fine with just plain old Soda. I know I am."

Soda smiled in thanks and kissed her, gently at first before the kiss started to become more passionate.

"Ahem?" They turned to see Steve and Cherry standing in front of them. They'd both cleaned up rather nicely.

Steve wore a black, button up shirt and blue jeans with regular white sneakers. His hair was combed into complicated curls, hanging down the back of his neck, and his lips were curved into a smirk, his eyes mischievous.

Cherry dawned a light pink dress only slightly longer than Tiffany's and golden flats with only the slightest bit of make up (some blush and a little eyeshadow). Her wavy red hair was down with a pink clip keeping some of the strands out of her face. Her face was blushing slightly.

"Interrupt something, did we?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"Actually," Soda drawled, "you did. We were having a perfectly normal conversation that you butted in on."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, let's take your 'perfectly normal conversation' inside, shall we?"

"We shall, sir Steve," Soda said, sarcastically. "Ready, Tif?"

Tiffany nodded and her and Soda walked in alongside Steve and Cherry, who were talking happily.

They were seated at a table and ordered their drinks before they just started talking.

"So when did you two start dating?" Soda asked the couple across from them.

"Hmm," Cherry contemplated it. "When did you guys?"

"Roughly a month ago, give or take a few days," Tiffany answered.

"Then, a few days before you guys did," Steve replied. "And I've never been happier." He kissed Cherry lightly on her temple.

"It's like a romance movie come to life," Soda whispered to his girlfriend, who nodded.

"So Tiffany, you used to hate Greasers? What changed?" Cherry asked, still shocked that Tiffany, of all people, would date a Greaser and go out with Greasers in public.

Tiffany shrugged. "Soda did. I don't know why, but the minute we met, we kind of fell in love. I agreed to one date and that date went wrong; I wound up telling him about that prank I pulled on his brother. We broke up and fully believing I was right, I went home, but it wasn't over. The next few days, I sat in my room, thinking and finally realized that Soda was right, so I apologized and things kind of took off from there."

Cherry nodded in understanding.

"How did you guys start dating?" Soda questioned, curiously. "And whatever happened to Evie?"

Steve shrugged, looking a little dejected. "Evie got mixed up with drugs and her parents were drunks, so she moved away to get treated near her grandmother in Olympia, Washington. I was still a little sad, even though I knew Evie and I had never been right for each other."

Cherry picked up the story. "And I was still getting over Bob because sure, he was a jerk when he was drunk, but he could be real sweet and friendly when sober. I was developing a crush on Steve, but I thought it was just that: a crush."

Steve continued, "and the more Cherry came over, the more it noticed how pretty and smart she was and how accepting of Greasers and I decided, hey, why not get to know her better?"

"So we decided to give it a try," Cherry said. "We had a lot of fun on our first date, so we had another. And another. Until we were full blown dating."

"We're not your stereotypical couple, but then again, neither are you two," Steve smirked.

Soda smiled. "Agreed, but who needs stereotypes anyway?"

Tiffany nodded in agreement.

Their food came and they talked some more about everything from their favorites sports teams to what they wanted to be when they grew up. Tiffany didn't know how to answer that one.

Finally, it was time to leave.

"Well, I guess we'll see you around," Tiffany smiled at Cherry and Steve. "Thanks for the night."

"You too, Tiffany. See you guys around," Cherry said before walking off with Steve, giggling when Soda called after them, "Don't have too much fun, you too!"

"I guess I'll see you later, Sodapop," Tiffany said with a small grin, pecking Soda on the cheek.

"Love you, Tiffany."

And they parted ways, Sodapop walking towards the bus stop and Tiffany choosing to walk home since her house was only two blocks away.

But she didn't expect the fist that came out of nowhere.

"Who the hell do you think you are- hanging around with a Greaser?" A male voice growled and a fist came hurtling towards her face while a female giggled in the background.

The last thing she saw before it was lights out was a silver ring with a GC engraved on the band.

Then, the world went black.

* * *

 _sorry the chapters kind of short and boring, but next chapter is when the story really kicks off because hey, you didn't think it would all be romance did you? What's a story without a few unexpected turns?_

 _Oh, and remember Steve and Cherry. You'll be seeing more of them later._

 _Until next time! Thank you for reading this chapter._


	7. GC and Heartbreak

_I am so sorry about the long delay, but my school is doing our nine week assessments, so I've been loaded down with homework, study guides, and all this stress from the exams we're taking. BUT... I am taking my last exam tomorrow, so yah! Anyway, here's the long awaited chapter, which is a little sad honestly, but what's romance without a little angst?_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sorry to disappoint, I know._**

* * *

"Soda!" A voice called, shaking with fear, as Randy Adderson burst into the DX, where Soda was stocking the shelves.

He spun around to face his girlfriend's brother and froze at the look of utter terror and worry on the teenager's face.

"Randy, what's wrong?" Soda asked, his voice quivering like a leaf in the wind.

"It-It's Tiffany," Randy murmured. "She was jumped last night."

The bottle of coke in Soda's hand shattered upon the floor, spraying Soda's jeans with pop. "Is she okay?"

Randy shrugged. "Physically, she's gonna be, but mentally... I don't know, Soda. She's been acting really weird since she was jumped."

"Weird how?" Soda questioned, concerned.

"Muttering to herself, repeating the same phrase over and over again, and saying some stuff about reputation and to stay away from you or else," Randy mumbled, worried.

"What? You think somebody jumped her because of... me?" Soda whispered, his breathing picking up and his heart beating at the speed of light.

"Well," Randy hesitated, "not solely you. Tiffany made the choice to go out with you, a Greaser, and some Socs weren't too happy about that. They wanted revenge on Tiffany for 'ruining their reputation'," he made air quotes around the last three words. "But this is the first time they really acted, and for a while, I didn't think they would. I should've known better."

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Randy. I should've known better than to let her walk home alone," Soda murmured, guilt rippling through him. "Can I see her?"

"Of course," Randy replied. "She's at the city hospital, the one Ponyboy was at. Just come by whenever you get the chance."

"I can go right now," Soda answered, hurriedly. "As long you can give me a ride, and I tell Steve I'm leaving early to check on Tiffany."

"That'd be great," Randy said with a slight smile. "She's been asking for you since they brought her in."

Despite the circumstances, that statement warmed Soda's heart a little bit and he smiled a watery grin before heading to the back room to inform Steve.

Meanwhile, Randy stared out the window at his friend, Gavin Conners, as he walked by, chuckling among a group of more Socs.

Gavin was tall and thin with dark brown hair and blue eyes. His features were soft, almost feminine, and his nose was short and stubby. His ears were a little small and his side burns needed a trim. Over all, Gavin looked like child that had yet to become a man, but he was getting there; Randy could see it in his newly developing muscles and the recent loss of his baby fat. Gavin was one of the Socs that was rich, but not stuck up; he acted more like middle class or neutral than he did a Soc, but everyone loved him anyway- even the Greasers could grudgingly except him.

"Randy!" He called out in suprise as he stepped inside the gasoline station, leaving his entourage to continue walking. "What are ya' doing here?"

That's another thing about Gavin. While almost everyone in Tulsa had a southern accent, Gavin's was much more defined. He'd been raised in Alabama and never lost that defined accent that made him unique in Tulsa.

"Waiting on Soda. We're gonna go see Tiffany," Randy replied, somberly. Everyone knew about Tiffany and Soda and her getting jumped; word travels faster in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

"I'm sorry 'bout your sister by the way," Gavin said, sympathetically. "Hopes she's doing alrigh'."

Randy nodded. "She's doing okay. Not perfect or normal, but okay, and there's no lasting damage."

"That's good, mate," Gavin said.

Randy stared at him. "Dude, you're from Alabama, not Australia."

Gavin smiled at him, but pity still flashed in his eyes. "Shut up, Randy. I have to get goin', but I'll see you 'round, okay? Tell Tiffany I hope she gets better."

With that, Gavin left the shop and Randy stared after him in curiosity.

Gavin was usually so verbose, but today, he'd rarely talked, struck up a good conversation and then, ended it abruptly, which wasn't like Gavin at all.

Gavin Conners. GC. The initials his sister had been repeating since she'd gotten jumped. Could it be?

No way! Gavin Conners was too nice to do anything like that! But then again, Bob was nice, except when he was drunk. Could Gavin have been drunk and not been thinking straight? That was possible, but...

"I'm ready," Soda said as he stepped out of the break room with his jacket over his arm.

"Okay," Randy responded, trying to act like nothing had happened- like he hadn't just met his first suspect in who jumped his little sister. "Let's go. Tiffany'll be excited to see you."

Gavin Conners. Suspect one.

* * *

When Soda stepped into the hospital room, the first thing he thought was Tiffany didn't look any less beautiful, even battered and bruised like she was.

The second was: ' _your girlfriend's hurt, and you choose now, of all times, to admire her beauty when she could be seriously injured!'_

Ignoring his thoughts for a moment, Soda knelt beside Tiffany and grabbed her hand.

Tiffany didn't even look that bad, but that didn't make the whole thing any less terrifying. Her dark curls were no longer neatly done and brushed as they had been the night before; instead, they hung loosely around her head upon the pillow. A huge bruise was present on her forehead, marring her skin with its deep blue color. She no longer wore her baby blue dress, but instead, was dressed in a hospital gown that left her scratched arms visible. She was covered in the blanket up to her chest, and fast asleep.

"My darling Tiffany," he whispered. He barely noticed Randy leave the room, but he did notice Tiffany stir.

"GC," she mumbled. "GC. Reputation... don't ruin it."

"What?" Soda murmured. "Tiffany?"

"Soda," she mumbled. "No love."

"What?" Soda cried, his heart breaking a little. She couldn't mean...

"No love Soda. People get hurt. Bad things happen when Tiffany love Soda, " her words were so jumbled, but Soda understood.

"No, Tiffany," he sobbed. "Bad things don't happen. I love you, and that's a good thing. You don't hate Greasers anymore! That's a good thing! Bad things don't happen, and of course, people will get hurt when a Soc dates a Grease, but we can work things out-"

Tiffany shook her head weakly. "I sorry, Sodapop, but no love. Not anymore." And she passed out once more.

Soda crumpled to his knees. Why did this have to happen? Mom and Dad? Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dally in that fire? Sandy? And now, Tiffany? Why couldn't he just be happy?!

And then, he rembered something Johnny and Ponyboy told him when he'd been visiting them in the hospital.

Staring down at his now ex girlfriend, he stated, "Nothing gold can stay, Tiffany."

And he walked away.

* * *

He'd done it. He couldn't believe it. He'd actually jumped that idiotic softie Tiffany Adderson.

He still didn't know if he'd wanted too or if he'd just wanted the money. He definitely wanted revenge on Tiffany, but did he want this? He may never know.

She'd broken up with him. He'd seen Curtis trying to hide his tears as he walked home, and that's enough of a sign for him to know that Tiffany and Curtis are no more.

Yet there's this feeling inside of him. This... emotion that takes him over, keeps him up at night, makes his hair fall out, makes him restless. It makes him want to blurt his biggest secret to the world.

Is it apprehension of getting found out?

Is it because he feels bad for Randy, who's still his friend?

Is it... no, it couldn't be. He'd never felt it before.

Was it... guilt?

* * *

 _so, I pray the next chapter will come sooner, but no promises because it really all depends on my school schedule, which changes a whole bunch._

 _So in this chapter, Randy is beginning to investigate and he has his first suspect: Gavin Conners. Tiffany has broken up with Soda, and there's a little bit on the mysterious GC's feelings._

 _Next chapter, my plans are for there to be a little more on Randy's investigation, either another suspect or more on Gavin Conners. Tiffany's condition will be more detailed, and her feelings about the attack and Soda will start to show up, but they might not get really detailed until chapter nine. I may include another point of view, like GC's or Ponyboy's or maybe someone else's._

 _There's your preview of next chapter. If you want more information... well, I guess you're going to need to read more to find out! See you next time, my wonderful readers!_

 _-Myra109_


	8. Falling Down

_sorry for the delay. Just a lack of motivation, but I honestly thought this was a great chapter, so I'm pretty proud of myself for that. Read and review!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 _Theme song for chapter: **Down by Jason Walker**_

* * *

Tiffany hadn't slept since she'd broken up with Soda. She really didn't want to, but what other choice did she have?

 _"You better break up with that boyfriend of your's or I'll make sure he pays for your mistakes!"_

Tiffany turned onto her side, her side flaring up at the sudden movement. Why did she break up with Soda again? Right, GC's threat.

"Tiffany?" She turned onto her back and stared up at the blurry image of the doctor. Everything was blurry now a days.

"Tiffany, I want you to follow my finger." He held up his pointer finger and moved it from side to side, but her vision was hazy and fuzzy and she wound up just turning her head from side to side in confusion and frustration. "Is your vision blurry?"

She moved her chin up and let it fall to her chest in a weak nod.

The doctor glanced up and shrugged. "Her concussion doesn't seem to be getting better. If anything, it's getting worse."

Who was he talking to? Soda, maybe? Her eyes brightened momentarily until she remembered that she'd broken up with Soda.

But she had, too! Didn't she? She couldn't even remember.

"Is there anything you can do?" A male voice asked.

Not Soda, too deep and rougher, unlike Soda's soft and sweet as honey tone he always used. Dad... no, not deep enough and she couldn't see him visiting her. So that left... Randy.

"I'm afraid not at the moment. We've already got her on every pill in the book. Adding any more meds could kill her," the doctor replied. "We'll have to wait it out, and if it doesn't get better, we'll look into treatments."

"And the... assault? Are they looking into that?"

"I don't know, Mr. Adderson. You'll have to ask the police about that." She heard the doctor leave, but she somehow knew Randy stayed.

"Hey, Tif."

She wanted to say hi, to let him know everything was going to be okay, but her lips were glued shut. There were so many things she wanted to say. Sorry to Soda; I love you to Randy and Sodapop; to help them catch her attacker. But her voice failed her.

"I wish you could talk. I know it's hard with all the confusion going on up in there, little sis," he had a slight laugh in his voice but there was sadness to the chuckle as he tapped her forehead lightly. "I love you. "

She wanted to say I love you, too, but her mouth wouldn't open, so she settled for blinking three times.

Randy paused for a moment. "I'll take that as an 'I love you, too'?"

She gave him a single, weak nod.

"Don't worry, Tiffany. I'm gonna find the bastard that did this to you and make him pay. I'll see you soon, baby sister." He kissed her on the forehead and left.

Tiffany was both disappointed and relieved by his departure. In a way, she wanted to be alone to try and organize this jumble of things in her head into something that could be considered semi-organized. A healthy level of sanity and not this... not whatever this was. This confusion.

And yet... She'd felt better when she was with Randy, like having company made all her troubles melt away.

Why was this happening to her? She'd tried so hard... She'd been her parents' perfect girl; her brother's sweet baby sister; and Soda's loving girlfriend. She'd given up so much... She'd found the strength to apologize; she'd stayed with Soda even though her mom hated him; she'd gone on public dates with him even though she knew Greasers and Socs alike were watching them.

Why did she even try to fly? Why did she drown? Why was she all alone now?

Why was she the one always falling down... down... down?

* * *

Randy was getting closer. He could feel it in his gut.

He'd been following Gavin Connors for days, trying to pinpoint exactly why this kid would do something like that to his baby sister.

None of it added up. This person had to be very cruel to do what he did to Tiffany... beating her up like that. That just wasn't who Gavin was. Gavin was the sweet boy from Alabama that was liked by everyone and couldn't harm a fly.

Randy sighed as he closed his notepad. Maybe his gut was wrong.

"Oi, Adderson, what's up?" A voice shouted from behind him and he turned to see Gerald Carson jogging towards him.

Gerald was a pretty big guy with a broad chest and muscles to rival those of Chuck Norris (okay, an exaggeration, but you get my point). His black hair was gelled, but not Greaser territory and cropped short with a cowlick that he pulled off rather nicely. His eyes were blue and could go from warm to frigid in a millisecond. He was wearing his football team varsity jacket with new jeans free of holes and rips. Gerald was all in all perfect.

"How you doing, buddy?" Gerald asked, shaking Randy's hand.

"Great. You?"

"Fantastic. Jumping Greasers, beating Harlington's butt at football, even got some revenge on an enemy of mine," Gerald rubbed his hands together, mischievously.

"Good for you," Randy stated, dully, but that statement got him thinking. Could Gerald be the attacker?

"Gerald, come on! I'm not waiting for you!" A car horn honked and Gerald waved goodbye.

"Gotta go, man, see you 'round." And he ran off.

It did make sense. Gerald liked to jump people; he wasn't exactly known for being nice; he was a big guy and could cause a lot of damage if he wanted to; and there was that thing about getting revenge on an enemy.

Randy took out his notepad and jotted down:

 ** _Gerald Carson_**

He had a suspect to investigate.

* * *

Why did he feel like this? He'd never felt guilty in his life, so why was this different?

He'd jumped the girl; he'd done that before and felt no remorse. He'd hurt Greasers physically and emotionally before, so why was he so guilty over breaking Curtis' heart?

Why did he feel the need to turn himself in? He'd never felt that before.

Normally, he was always proud of himself after jumping a person and getting revenge on enemies. Why didn't he feel like that anymore?

Why was he falling down... down... down?

* * *

 _Preview for the next chapter:_

 _Chapter nine will detail Soda's feelings over the break up and maybe the POV of one of the gang members (Pony, Johnny, Dally, etc.) on how they feel about Tiffany, the attack, and Soda's recent change in mood. I MAY put some of Randy in there, but I'm not sure, and I can't garentee that GC'S POV will be present next chapter. Thanks for sticking with me!_

 _Let me know what you think!_


	9. Amnesia

_Sorry for the delay, but I was having some writers block this week. I'm back though!_

 _Theme song for chapter: Amnesia by 5 Seconds of Summer_

 _WARNINGS: UNDERAGE DRINKING and CAR CRASH_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nada._**

* * *

"Damn it!" Soda cried, slamming his hand against the steering wheel of Darry's truck, tears beginning to stream down his face.

He truly tried to love life, but it was so hard when there was nothing about life to love. His mom and dad were dead; Darry was under constant stress; Sandy broke up with him; Ponyboy would never be the same after Windrixville; and now, Tiffany was leaving him. Why was life so unfair?

Soda remembered being really small, an elementary kid with legs too short and a torso too long, making him look like an out of proportion sunflower (his hair had been almost pure white at the time and loved to stick up in different directions). He was in second grade, and one day on the playground, he'd walked up to a group of kids, clenching a football in his hands.

" _Wanna play?" He asked in his squeaky voice._

 _The boys turned to him and laughed._

 _"Why would we wanna hang out with a Greaser?" One boy chuckled, meanly, before the group waltzed away from Soda, who was blushing like mad and blinking tears from his eyes._

 _Later, he ran home and leapt onto his dad's lap, crying about what the boys had done to him today._

 _His dad had rubbed his back, soothingly, and said, "Soda, life isn't fair. Kids will be mean; things will be taken from you; people will leave. But just remember that none of that defines you. Love life and never change who you are. You're a fun loving, drunk on life, touch as nails kid that is going to be the peacemaker and the fighter all at once. Never forget who Sodapop Curtis is. Can you promise me that, Sodapop?"_

 _"I promise, Daddy!"_

And he'd broken that promise.

Soda took a swig from his first ever bottle of beer and against his better judgement, he pulled out of the lot and started driving down a nearly vacant road.

He drove past the restaurant where he and Tiffany had had their first date, where he'd dumped her and let her alone at the table because of what she'd to Ponyboy.

He should've trusted his gut: he should've bloody held a grudge. Forgiving her had been the biggest mistake of his life.

They'd never even had their first kiss! Pecks on the cheek, sure, but their lips had never connected. Was their entire relationship a lie?

He drove past her house, where they'd truly clicked and where she'd realized her hatred of Greasers wasn't right. He wanted to go in there and pound her parents into the ground for not being with Tiffany at the hospital.

Soda forced his emotion to die down a bit. Tiffany didn't care about him, so why should he care about her? Had she ever loved him?

He pounded his hands on his head, trying to force the memories away. He wanted to forget, to wake up with amnesia and never have to deal with the pain.

He took a swig from the bottle of liquor and exhaled some smoke from his cigarette before beginning to drive again, gaining speed by the minute.

His eyesight was fading in and out and the world was tilting this way and that.

The last thing he saw was a blinding light before an almighty honk, an ear splitting crash, and a burning pain that enveloped his body.

And then blackness and nothing more.

* * *

PONYBOY'S POV

I was pissed. I was ready to storm down to the hospital and give that bloody girl a piece of my mind, show her that Curtis' always kept their promises.

Darry talked me out of it, but that didn't stop me from burning any and all photos Soda had of her and plotting my revenge. I would get that bitch back for hurting my brother if it was the last thing I did.

"Pony, she wasn't thinking straight. Maybe she was just delirious and it simply slipped out. What if she didn't really mean it?" Johnny pleaded with me.

"I don't care if she was delirious! I warned her that if she ever hurt my brother again, I'd come after her and I always keep my promises, Johnny!" I snarled, pacing from one end of my room to the other.

"Yes, but you of all people should know that violence is not the answer," Johnny begged.

He had a point. Ever since Bob died, I'd been scared of violence. I never attended rumbles; I always got a ride home from school to avoid Socs; and I stayed away from any violent places, like certain restaurants and roads.

But even I have a breaking point. No one messes with my brothers and gets away with it.

"Look, Johnny, I know you and the gang think that Soda is this fun loving, without a care in the world guy, but he's not. You don't see him when he comes home after a hard day at work; you didn't see him when he and Tiffany had that spat right before they started dating; you didn't see him when he came home from talking to her at the hospital. I share a room with him and at least once a week, I'll hear him crying. You've never seen Sodapop broken, but he is. And I don't know if he can ever be fixed."

"Sure he can," a voice said from the doorway.

We turned to see Randy Adderson standing there, fiddling with a notepad and biting his lower lip.

"Hey, Randy," I greeted, trying not to growl. Just because I was mad at Tiffany didn't mean I had to take it out on her brother.

"What do you mean by that?" Johnny asked.

Randy sighed. "Look, I used to think the same thing about Tiffany, how she would never be fixed. Until she met Soda and I saw a side of her that I hadn't seen since she was ten. I'm pissed at Tiffany for hurting Soda, but I'm more pissed at the person that did this to her. I say we find him and we figure out the Soda and Tiffany situation later. Deal?"

Johnny and I exchanged glances. It seemed like a good idea. Whoever the hell this person was, he was the root of our problem; he'd jumped Tiffany and put these ideas in her head, causing her to say those things. Find him, fix the broken later.

"What clues do we have?" I asked, turning back to Randy.

"Well, I know his initials are-" Randy was cut off by the door being flung open.

Darry rushed into the room, his eyes red and his movements frantic.

"What is it, Darry?" I demanded. I'd never seen him this panicked, and it made a sickly feeling grow in my stomach.

"Soda's in the hospital."

The world fell out from underneath me.

* * *

 _Hello, everyone! I just want to say that Soda and Tiffany will be getting back together within the next few chapters, so don't worry about that!_

 _IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: I just finished one of my other Outsiders fanfictions, and I have a rule that when I finish a story, I start a new one. I have five stories in mind and their summaries are on my profile. Two are Leo Valdez fanfictions; two are Regulus and Sirius Black fanfictions; and one is a Leo Valdez and Outsiders crossover. Just read through those and review the story you want most on any one of my stories. Thanks!_


	10. We Had a Bad Day

_I'm back after having horrible cases of writer's block! This chapter is not my best, but it's okay and hopefully next halter will be way better! Read and Review!_

 _WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE DRINKING, LANGUAGE, AND IMPLIED SELF HARM_

 _ **Theme song: Bad Day by Daniel Powter**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor do I own the quotes from Bad Day by Daniel Powter. This isn't a songfic, but I did quote the song (verse 1 and the chorus only), so I do not own those.**_

* * *

Tiffany wouldn't stop crying.

She was sobbing and bawling and screaming, throwing things at walls and at her brother as he tried to calm her down.

"Tiffany, Soda is alive! He's gonna be fine! But you have to calm down!" Randy yelped and ducked as a random book went flying over his head.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN, RANDY?! Soda is in the HOSPITAL because of me! He never would've been drinking and driving if I hadn't made him upset!" She screamed.

"You don't know that! Soda has plenty wrong in his life. His parents, his brothers and friends, his job... it wasn't just you!"

"But I played a part in it, Randy! I pushed Soda over the edge!"

"Maybe you did, but you can still fix it! Go visit him... say you're sorry. Do something other than sit in here feeling sorry for yourself when we're all working our asses off trying to find the bastard that did this to you!" Randy turned on his heel and stormed from the room.

Tiffany quite literally collapsed onto the bed, rocking herself back and forth as a way to comfort herself, but this did little to stop her tears.

Having no idea what she was doing- as if she were in a trance- she stood and walked down the hall to the room of Sodapop Curtis.

No one was there at the moment; he hadn't even arrived half an hour ago, so that meant his friends and family would be here soon.

The minute Tiffany stepped in, she let loose a sob.

Soda. Her Soda was lying on the hospital bed, pale as death, and not moving at all. Not even a twitch. Bandages encircled his wrists and head, where a spot of blood had already leaked through. A gigantic scratch stretched across his right cheek and blood dotted the gauze they'd taped to the cut to stop the bleeding. He'd need stitches at the best.

"Sodapop," she whimpered, sitting her shaky body down in a chair at his bedside. "I'm so sorry."

For some reason, the song Bad Day by Daniel Powter popped into her head. Soda used to- no, he loved to play that song in the car and the pair of them would sing along to it.

'Where is the moment we needed the most

You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

They tell me your blue skies fade to grey

They tell me your passion's gone away

And I don't need no carryin' on'

Her voice broke. Soda always sang the next part and it didn't feel right singing it.

Why did this have to happen to them? Why couldn't she be happy? Why did she bring trouble everywhere she went.

She reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his face. It was a pale blonde and limp, no longer heavily greased and brushed with extensive care.

Tiffany grabbed Soda's wrist and ran her hand over a white scar that just barely peaked above the bandages. At least it didn't appear as if he relapsed.

She skipped the next verse, right onto the chorus.

'Cause you had a bad day

You're taking one down

You sing a sad song just to turn it around

You say you don't know

You tell me don't lie

You work at a smile and you go for a ride

You had a bad day

The camera don't lie

You're coming back down and you really don't mind'

Her voice cracked once more and she began to sob, pressing her face into the white blanket.

"You had a bad day," a voice croaked from next to her.

She slowly lifted her head and saw those lively brown eyes twinkling at her.

"Soda!" She cried, moving to throw her arms around him before restraining herself. Not the best idea when Soda was injured.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Soda smiled, weakly. "I forgive you, Tif. I can't live without you."

She nodded. "I know the feeling."

"I love you so much."

"I love you more," she whispered before lightly kissing him on his lips. His breath smelled of alcohol, but she was confident that they wouldn't smell like that for a long time, if ever again.

She'd never agreed with, nor believed in, the cliché statement, but she could make an exception today.

When she kissed Sodapop Curtis, sparks flew.

* * *

"That's so cute."

"Randy, you sound like a girl."

"So? It is," Randy hissed to Ponyboy and Johnny, who just snickered and turned back to the sight before them.

"I'm too young for this," Ponyboy muttered, looking disgusted.

"Trust me, Pone, you're gonna love it someday," Johnny snickered.

"Nice to know," Ponyboy mumbled. "How do they breathe?"

"Through their nose, I guess."

"This is disturbing."

"Ponyboy," Randy suddenly interrupted, "next time you talk to him, tell your brother he better keep his hands to himself."

"I will. I do not want to have a niece or nephew quite yet," Pony chuckled.

"You think we could video tape this?" Johnny muttered. "We'd probably make a fortune. The longest kiss ever."

"I've had longer kisses," Randy replied.

"Unfortunately, we have to go," Ponyboy said. "We gotta find this GC character and murder him. "

"No killing!"

"I know, Johnny, but we better get going."

"Move out, men."

"We're not soldiers."

"Or spies."

"Shut up."

* * *

 _Hello, everyone, and good bye! Before I go, I must tell you that I am open on any and all ideas because I have been struggling with writer's block. Thank you!_


	11. A Very Complicated Investigation

_I am so sorry for my late update, but I have been lacking motivation and I'm stressed out from my semester exams. But I'm back, and be warned, this GC investigation is about to get very complicated!_

 _WARNINGS: MINOR VIOLENCE AT THE END_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nada. I'm very, very sorry. *gives disappointed, puppy dog eyes*_**

* * *

Randy was getting tired of this investigation. He knew he could never be a detective because he didn't have the patience. On his list of suspects, he had Gavin Connors, Gerald Carson, and now a third suspect!

Gavin didn't meet the criteria. He was friendly and talkative and an all around good person, but he had been acting rather suspiciously that day at the DX. Gavin hardly talked that day, which was unlike him, and it felt like Gavin hadn't wanted to be around him, which was odd because Randy and Gavin usually got along great.

Gerald was a definite possibility. He was tough and hated Greasers, and he told Randy he had gotten revenge on an old enemy. Could Tiffany be that enemy?

But Gary Collins? He wasn't even sure what to think of him.

Gary was thin and tall and easy going, but he could be the devil if you made him mad. He was smart and frighteningly clever, but he didn't seem to have anything against Greasers. Still, Randy wasn't about to rule him out.

He'd been covering for Soda at the DX (it was the least he could do after everything that had happened) when Gary had walked in.

"Hey, Randy," he greeted. "I didn't know you worked at the DX."

"I don't," Randy told him. "I'm covering for Soda while he's in the hospital."

Gary nodded, sympathetically. "I heard about that. He gonna be alright?"

Randy nodded. "Yeah, he'll be out of the hospital next week, and it's only a matter of time before he's back on his feet again."

"That's good," Gary told him, sounding sincere, before hesitating. "And your sister?"

"Better. With Soda by her side, she'll heal up nicely."

"She's still dating him? I thought they broke up." A flash of anger appeared in Gary's eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. It was probably Randy's imagination.

"They did, but they got back together after Soda's accident," Randy told him.

"Oh..." Gary hesitated. "So, any closer to finding out who did it?"

Randy shrugged. "Two suspects, but I don't know. Ponyboy and Johnny have been helping me, but we're still not any closer to finding out who the culprit is."

Gary nodded. "Well, I, um, hope you find them."

"Me, too. See ya, Gary."

"Bye."

The boy left Randy standing in the gas station, feeling very confused.

Could Gary be the attacker? Like Gavin, Gary was friendly, just maybe not as much, and he didn't have anything against Greasers. At least not that Randy knew of.

He tapped his fingers on the counter. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Meanwhile, school was in session, and Ponyboy was having a few thoughts of his own while Catherine Carrey glowered at him.

Catherine was this real pretty girl with long blonde curls and icy blue eyes that could kill you with one stare. She always wore a blouse with the top three buttons undone and in varying shades of pink. Her skirt was far too short, and on the days she wore jeans, they were far too skinny. She was usually amongst the popular girls, but with one minute to the bell, they'd all branched off.

And that's when Ponyboy had run into her as she turned the corner.

"Watch it, freak!" She growled as she reached for her Biology book. And that's when Ponyboy saw the ring.

It was a dark emerald, almost black if you weren't looking at it closely, and the letters GC were engraved in a shimmering gold.

Ponyboy froze. Could Catherine be the attacker?

No, Tiffany had confirmed that her attacker had been male, judging by his voice. But could Catherine be linked to it?

"What's with the ring?" He asked, casually. "Your initials aren't GC."

She rolled her eyes. "My boyfriend, George. George and Catherine. Everyone's wearing them; get with the times, loser."

Then, she walked off, leaving Ponyboy alone in a deserted corridor.

* * *

"Guys!" He shouted as he ran into his bedroom, where Randy and Johnny were discussing the evidence.

"What's got you so excited?" Johnny asked, his brow crinkled in curiosity.

"I think I figured out who did this!" Ponyboy cheered.

"Really? Who?" Randy demanded.

"Well, today, I ran into Catherine Carry in the hallway, and I saw a ring on her finger with the letters GC on it."

"But... Tiffany said her attacker was a boy," Johnny said, questionable about Pony's discovery.

"I know, but when I asked her about it, she said the G stood for George, her boyfriend."

Randy frowned. "I don't know any George."

"Neither do I," Johnny said.

"Well, what guy hangs out with her?" Pony asked.

Randy barked a laugh. "There's at least a dozen guys hanging off of her a day. How are we gonna find out? I mean, I know all of them, and none of them are named George."

Ponyboy groaned. He should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

"But Gabe-"

"You can't chicken out now, Carly! We finally fooled them into thinking Cathy and that geek did this."

"But Gabe, this isn't right."

"It was your idea, Carly!"

"I know, but framing them? Cathy's my best friend; I can't do that to her."

"I don't care what you want to do or what you can do!" Gabe shook her until her hair flipped over her face, making her look like she'd been out in a windy storm. "We planned this together, and I'm not letting you chicken out of this now!"

"Gabe, let. Me. Go! I'm telling, and you can't stop me."

"Oh, I sure can!"

There was a thump, and she could hear his light breathing from somewhere behind her. Suddenly, the breathing got heavier and she heard him fall back, gasping for air that he couldn't find and crying. And somehow, she couldn't blame him for this or for what happened to Tiffany.

That was the last thought she had before the world went black.

* * *

 _Don't worry, Carly isn't dead. There will be more on Gabe and Carly later, but who is this mysterious George? Wait until the next chapter to find out!_


	12. George the Geek

_I'm so sorry for the late update and the short chapter, but with school starting up again yesterday, getting back in the swing of things and the stress of school in general is seriously effecting my creativity._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

"When can I get out of here?"

"When you're healed."

"How long will that take?"

"However long it takes."

"You're frustrating."

"I know, I'm very talented at being frustrating."

Tiffany laughed from the door way, where she held two soda cans. "Are you arguing with the doctor again, Soda?"

"Yes," Soda pouted.

"Why?"

"Because he won't let me leave, and I cannot sit in this bed any more. If I'm here for one more day, I'll go insane!"

"You're being dramatic."

"No, I'm not. But anyway, where's Ponyboy and Johnny? They said they were gonna stop by today."

"They said they had some urgent business to take care of before running off with Randy."

"I swear if they come back with broken bones, I'm gonna hurt your brother."

Tiffany giggled. "Alright, Randy is more responsible than that. Not by much, but he is."

"Still. Tell him that for me."

"I'll make sure he gets the message. Now, Soda, here's your soda," she laughed, handing it to him.

"Thanks, Tiff. How's the outside world?" He said with a wistful expression.

"Alright, unless you count the strict, uncaring parents, the stereotypical jerks, and my brother running off God knows where, getting into who knows how much trouble in the mean time," she said, blowing a whisp of hair from her face.

"What are they doing? I'll get Two Bit to spy on them... no, I'll choose somebody else. Two Bit's about as subtle as a kick in the butt."

Tiffany giggled. "Got that right."

"To us," Soda said, holding up his soda can.

"And our misery," Tiffany joked, sounding so serious, but her smile kind of gave her away.

They bumped cans before taking a sip.

* * *

"Are you sure she comes here?" Ponyboy asked Randy. "Or are we just wasting our time?"

"She comes here every day at two. It's 1:59," Randy hissed. "She'll be here any second."

Randy, Pony, and Johnny were currently squatting behind a few trashcans, waiting for Catherine to arrive at this hallway. It was rarely used, but Catherine used it as a short cut to her next class, according to Randy.

"Look, there she is," Johnny whispered.

And there she was... with some guy.

The guy was tall and thin, his skin pale and covered with freckles. He wore a band jacket and old blue jeans. His hair was brown, and his eyes were an electric blue. He actually wouldn't have been too bad looking if it weren't for his huge, clunky glasses that were slipping down his nose. The books in his hands were for all advanced classes.

Catherine and the guy set their books on the floor before the guy took off his glasses and kissed her.

It wasn't like any kiss they'd seen her giving any other guy, which were rough and primarily sexual; this was slow and passionate and gentle. She really cared for this guy.

"I love you, George," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Cathy."

The three of them backtracked their way out of the hall, ducking into an unused classroom and turning to stare at each other.

"What the hell just happened?" They asked in tandem.

"That was weird," Randy agreed. "I mean, Catherine dating a geek?!"

"Then again, everyone said the same thing about your sister when she started dating Soda," Ponyboy pointed out.

Randy shrugged. "Yeah, but still. Do you guys think they hurt Tiffany?"

Ponyboy shook his head. "I know George, and he couldn't hurt a fly."

"Back to square one," Johnny summed up.

"Yep," Randy and Ponyboy muttered.

"Damn it," they cursed in unison.

* * *

Carly felt something warm oozing down the side of her face. Her head ached horribly, and she considered going back to sleep, but then, she remembered Gabe and she tried to sit up.

Bad move. Pain exploded in her head as she collapsed back onto the couch she was laying on.

"Shh, Carls, don't try to sit up," Gabe whispered from somewhere off to her left.

"Gabe?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he told her, patting a damp and warm wash cloth to her forehead. "I am so sorry."

"It's okay. You just got mad," Carly murmured.

 _I'm sorry, Gabe, but as soon as I get out of here, I'm telling the truth._

"I need to get home; my mom will get worried," she muttered.

Gabe hesitated. "I'm sorry, Carly, but I can't let you leave."

"What? Why not?" She protested, leaning on her arms to look Gabe straight in the eye.

"Well, you're going to tell, and I can't let that happen."

"You can't keep me here against my will!" She growled.

"I love you, Carly, and if I go down, you go down with me. You don't want that, do you?"

"I'd rather go to jail than see my best friend go for something we did," Carly snarled. "Now, let me go!"

"I'm sorry, Carly."

"Enough with the I'm sorry! You're not sorry!" Carly sobbed. "Now, you better let me go, Gabriel, or... or I'll tell the cops _everything_!"

His eyebrows shot up. "Everything?"

"Yep," she smirked. "Tiffany, the drugs, the booze, all the kids you jumped."

Gabe went pale. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would."

"Well, that's another reason for me to keep you here. I'm sorry, Carly."

"What-"

A cloth slammed over her mouth.

She screamed into it.

Black dots began to appear in her vision, and she felt so tired.

' _Somebody, please... help me,_ ' she thought.

"I'm sorry. I love you so much, Carly."

The world went black.

* * *

 _Well, there's that chapter! Review! Remember I am open to any and all ideas; sorry, but writers block is coming back... the struggles of being a writer, am I right?_


	13. To Make Things Right

_I've returned with an even longer chapter to make up for my absense!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Carly groaned as she tried to sit up, but finding herself unable to. She wiggled her thin wrists against the rough rope that rubbed her skin raw, staining it an angry scarlet. Her feet were also tied to something, probably the bottom of a bed, but her vision was obscured by the darkness of a blindfold.

She tried not to panic. Her dad was a cop, after all. He'd find her soon, and he'd taught her some tricks in case she were ever kidnapped. No one, not even herself or her dad, thought she'd need them until now.

Step one: get your bearings. Note any and all things you notice about where you're being held captive.

She was lying on some sort of mattress, fairly soft but flat, like it was old and hadn't been used in a long time. From what she could tell, she was tied to the bed frame with a rough and scratchy rope- judging from the amount of wiggle room, hastily. The blindfold that covered her eyes was dark, maybe black or a navy blue, and smelled of dust and the lingering scent of laundry detergent of something that had been washed within the past few weeks but not used.

Step 2: Identify any escape routes.

Well, she couldn't exactly do that with the blindfold, but she could find weak links in her bonds.

They had been tied hastily, giving her plenty of room to move her wrists and ankles. The rope was old, and it probably wouldn't take much to break it if she rubbed it enough...

Step 3: Take note of your kidnapper and his motives. Does he want to hurt you? Are you his hostage?

Gabe didn't want to hurt her, but he would do anything if it meant staying out of jail. Even killing her.

She had to escape now.

Luckily for her, that was Step 4: Formulate a Plan.

Well, Carly rubbed her wrists against the bed post and felt them coming loose. Gabe must have been in quite the state of mind when he tied these, or she probably wouldn't be able to move.

After less than five minutes, the bonds fell away, allowing her to rest her arms for a mere moment, rubbing the stiffness from them. Then, she started on her ankles, but she just yanked them away, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her feet and up her calves. Those rope burns weren't going away any time soon.

Carly stumbled to her feet and tried to decide the best way to escape.

She was in a small room with an old, rickety bed, a door (probably locked), and a window. The floor was gray cement and stains like oil and grease stained patches of it. A warehouse, most likely the one right between the West side and the East.

Step 5: Put that plan into action.

She tried the window. It was open, sliding up with a squeak that made her clench her eyes shut and pull it open faster, like ripping off a band aid.

Carly didn't waste her time to see if Gabe has heard her, if he was even here. She leaped onto the bed frame with the agility of a cat and exited the window feet first. When she looked down, her heart stopped.

Third floor.

It could've been worse. The warehouse had six or seven floors, but still, three stories was a long way down, and there was nothing to break her fall. Nothing but long, yellowed grass, the sidewalk, and overgrown bushes. The bushes may help, but not by much.

In the end, she just closed her eyes and jumped.

Knowing better than to land on her feet, she allowed her back to take the full fall, praying that the hit wouldn't break it.

It didn't, but the landing did crack a few of her ribs, judging by the sharp pain that stole her breath in a woosh of the night air. But Carly couldn't just sit here; she had a job to do.

Therefore, tumbling to the ground three times in the effort to reach her feet, she started tripping/limping towards the East Side.

She had to find the Curtis'. She had to make things right.

* * *

RING! The doorbell buzzed, which was odd because Greasers never knocked or rang the doorbell; they just walked right in.

Soda, perplexed, turned to Darry from where he was resting on the couch with Tiffany, both still battered and bruised, but otherwise healed.

"Were you expecting company?" He asked Darry, who shook his head. He turned to Tiffany, who also shook her head.

Dally opened the door, and the playing cards he'd been using against Steve fluttered to the floor.

"Darry, call 911!" Dally shouted as he threw his arms out, allowing the girl to tumble through the door and into them.

Darry came rushing in while Steve shakily picked up the phone and talked to the 911 operator, his voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. Lifting the girl without a hitch, Darry put her down on the couch just as Ponyboy came bolting into the living room with a first aid kit.

The girl was pretty with long brown hair in perfect, natural curls and a curvy figure; her cheekbones were dotted with freckles like speckles of pale brown paint. Her skin was fairly pale, but not in a sickly way, and she wore a sky blue T-shirt and skinny jeans. Scarlet blood trickled down her forehead; she'd probably been hit with something. And from the bruises on her stomach that were shown when Darry lifted her shirt to examine her injuries, her ribs were cracked, if not broken.

"Damn. She looks almost as bad as Tif did," Soda whispered.

"Got that right," Two Bit muttered, looking like he wanted to get sick.

"The ambulance is on its way," Steve informed them as he hung up the phone. "Who is she?"

Johnny reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet.

"Johnny, you can't just-" Johnny cut Darry off.

"Ahah! I knew she looked familiar. Her name is Carly Clayton. She goes to our school."

"Yeah!" Ponyboy exclaimed in realization. "She's Cathy's best friend."

"Well, do you guys have a guess as to who did this?" Darry asked as he wiped away the blood on her forehead.

Johnny, Steve, and Two Bit shook their heads, but Ponyboy nodded, slowly.

"Her boyfriend, Gabriel Kirkendoll. He's volatile, gets into a lot of trouble. There are even rumors going around that he's a girlfriend beater. Everyone was really surprised when Carly went out with him."

"And you know this how?" Johnny asked.

"I observe and I listen."

"Stalker."

"Shut up."

"Guys, shut up, she's coming around!" Dally hissed.

Carly mumbled something inaudible before her green eyes opened.

"Shh, the paramedics are on their way," Darry said when Carly's eyes widened in shock and fear.

"You Darry Curtis?" She slurred (the adrenaline having worn off, but the gang didn't know that).

"Yes?" Darry said, the unspoken question in his tone of voice.

"Gabe. Me. GC. Tiffany. Sorry." She slipped back into the sea of unconsciousness.

"What does that mean?" Soda demanded, although he had his suspicions.

Ponyboy spoke up. "She and Gabe were the ones that hurt Tiffany, hence the GC. Gabe and Carly. She must've felt guilty, but when Gabe found out she was going to tell, he tried to find a way to shut her up. Apparently, he didn't succeed."

"Hopefully, he didn't," Darry corrected, ever the pessimistic one, as he stared at her. "She doesn't look good."

"Yeah, but neither did Tiffany or Johnny," Pony pointed out, "and they're sitting right here."

"Yeah, but-"

"Darry, Pony's right. We need to think positive. Carly may have had a part in this, but Gabe's the real culprit. And she's our only link to him at the moment," Soda told him.

Darry nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off of Carly's bruised and bloodied face.

The door opened, and three men in white uniforms rushed inside, not asking a single question or speaking one word as they loaded Carly onto a stretcher.

After they'd carried her out to the ambulance, Soda murmured, "I can't wait to find this bastard."

"I'm with you, buddy," Steve agreed.

Little did they know, they wouldn't see hair, nor hide of Gabriel Kirkendoll for many weeks to come.

Neither would anyone else.

* * *

Gabe needed to leave. Right now.

He threw whatever was in arms reach into his suitcase, zipping it up, packed and ready in less than ten seconds. Then, he was rushing towards the door.

Gabe didn't need to be a genius to know that he was in deep, deep shit.

After trapping Carly in the warehouse, he's gone home to eat dinner with his mom and her boyfriend before heading back to his hide out. Where he was keeping his girlfriend, the only one, besides his parents, that cared about him.

What are you doing? He repeatedly asked himself. But he knew why.

Gabe had never been normal. Ever since his Daddy left when he was five and his mom went through a long list of lovers, some nice, some not so much, he'd been different. At age four, he was the friendliest kid you'd ever meet, but at age five, he started to wilt away like a flower in the winter.

Violent outbursts started in first grade. He started bullying people in second grade. He put a guy in the hospital when he was a third grader- Gabe was tiny, yes, but full of rage. He had his first cigarette in fourth grade; he drank his first beer when he was eleven; he started using drugs at age twelve.

The incident with Tiffany... well, everyone should've seen it coming.

He didn't want to do it, just like he didn't want to abduct Carly. But the voices were so loud, telling him and threatening him into doing things he loathed.

 _'If you don't take them out, they'll only hurt you in the end, just like your father did. Kill them, now, and you'll never get hurt_.' Speaking of the voice...

' _They all hate you. Judging you. Stupid idiot, run away already before something bad happens!'_

Gabe forged on. After months of dealing with the voices and the hallucinations, he'd gotten better at fighting them, but he wasn't perfect and asking for help wasn't his forte.

Anyway, when he arrived at the warehouse, he opened the door that locked Carly inside, only to find the room completely and utterly empty.

Ropes that had once bound Carly to the bed, now lay abandoned on the mattress, which was covered with patches of blood from Carly's head.

"Oh, shit," Gabe muttered, noticing the open window.

Two minutes after his arrival, he was speeding home to fetch a few things, which only took him about thirty seconds. Next, he was leaping into his vehicle and speeding away, not going too anywhere, but not staying where he was.

When Gabe passed the Curtis residence, he glared upon it. He had a plan, a plan that the voices had told him. A genius plan, and it was one of those rare occasions that he was thankful for the voices. It wouldn't last though.

But the plan was formulating in his mind, and he smirked.

Now, all he had to do was buy his time.

* * *

 _So Gabe has schizophrenia; I will tell you that. I do not have schizophrenia, nor do I know anyone with it, so I did some research and hopefully I'm depicting it at least somewhat accurately. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about something to do with Gabe's mental illness. Thanks!_

 _Thank you! See you later!_


	14. Secrets Make Us Sick

_Sorry for my absence, but on the bright side, I'm on Spring break, so I'll have much more time to write! Also, this is a short chaoter, but next chapter will be very interesting, I promise._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

* * *

Carly groaned, her head pounding like a bass drum. Her body felt like it had been hit by a truck; pain coursed through her very veins.

Gabe... where was Gabe?

With a lot of effort, she opened her eyes and examined the hospital room.

She was obviously laying in a hospital bed, hooked up a hundred machines that beeped and booped loudly in her ears. Bright lights lit the room, making her eyes ache from the briefest glance. White was everywhere- the walls, the sheets, the hospital gown; it was almost painful.

"Good. You're awake," a female voice said, softly.

Carly looked out of the corner of her eye, finding it hard to move her head without experiencing jolts of sharp pain.

The nurse was pale with long brown hair curled up into a neat bun. Her eyes were green and bright with kindness; she wore little make up, but still looked super model pretty. Her uniform was a pristine white, and her smile was almost brighter than the lights, but more comforting than painful.

"W-" Carly couldn't get anything else out.

"Don't try to speak. Your brain's bound to be a little fuzzy," the nurse advised. "I'm Nurse Jacqueline, but I prefer Jackie. You must be Carly."

Carly nodded as best as she could.

"Alright. Do you feel well enough to take some medication for the concussion you've got? It'll make you drowsy, but it'll help with the pain."

Carly nodded, immediately, despite the sharp pricks of fire in her neck and head.

Jackie smiled. "I thought so."

She picked up two pills and helped Carly sit up before Carly swallowed the pills.

Carly smiled, hoping Jackie got the message. Thank you.

"Your welcome," Jackie said. "I've gotta get going, but I'll be back soon. Try to get some rest."

Carly didn't need to be told twice; she promptly passed out.

* * *

The next time she awoke, Jackie was not there, but she wasn't alone.

Johnny Cade, Dallas Winston, Two Bit Mathews, Steve Randle, Tiffany Anderson, Ponyboy, Darry, and Sodapop Curtis stood by her bedside.

"Hey, Carly," Johnny greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Not too bad. What are you guys doing here?" Carly asked.

The group exchanged glances.

"We want to know what happened. You showed up at out house last night beaten bloody, and you mumbled Gabe. Me. GC. Tiffany. I'm sorry," Darry recapped.

Carly sighed. "I knew you'd ask about that eventually. Alright, a few months ago, Gabe started acting weird. Paranoid, defensive, a little abusive. I tried to convince him to go to a doctor, but he would go into a bout of rage, and it took me a while to get the courage to ask him again. I wanted to leave him, but I was afraid that he may... really go off the deep end if I left, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Anyway, when Soda and Tiffany started dating, he took it... almost personally, and I still don't know why. He wanted me to help with a prank to freak them out; I agreed because it was just supposed to be a small prank, where no one got hurt. But it wasn't a prank. He beat Tiffany, and he didn't tell me until after. I was scared he would do it to me, too, so I kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry."

"Where is Gabe now?" Steve asked.

Carly shrugged, flinching as pain rocketed up her arm. "I don't know. He probably skipped town; there's no telling whether he'll come back. My advice is that you stay on your toes, keep your eyes open. That's really all we can do."

No one said anything for a long time.

Finally, Tiffany stood and left.

Soda got up to follow her.

"Can you tell her I'm sorry? Again?" Carly asked.

Soda smiled and nodded, even though he knew that Tiff had already forgiven Carly, but she hadn't forgiven Gabe.

"Get well, Carly. We'll visit again."

Soda chased after Tiffany and found her seated on the curb outside the hospital, smoking a cigarette.

"Didn't know you smoked, Tiff," Soda said, sitting down beside her.

She shrugged. "I don't very often. This is my first cigarette in two months."

Soda smiled at her, sadly. "How you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't know anymore, Soda," she sighed. "He's still out there somewhere, and he's pissed off. I'm scared he's gonna come back."

"Well, when he does, we'll be ready for him."

"Soda..." she said after a pregnant pause. "What do you think happened to him? Paranoia, mood swings, anger issues... do you think it could be something more serious than him just being a troubled teen?"

Soda didn't respond at first.

"My aunt suffered from schizophrenia," he said, seemingly out of the blue. "My uncle had committed suicide a few weeks before, and we thought it was just her grieving. But then, one day, she just started screaming and shaking Ponyboy, telling him to run before Mikey got him, too. Mikey was one of her hallucinations.

"The point is that she suffered from the same symptoms that Gabe has. If he has schizophrenia, I just hope he can be saved before it's too late."

Silence reigned.

* * *

A FEW DAYS LATER

Ponyboy Curtis had seen a lot in his life. He'd seen his parents buried six feet under; Johnny kill a Soc; Johnny nearly die; Tiffany after she was attacked; and now, Carly.

But the day he got the phone call, he knew he was screwed.

It came at 4:03 pm on a Thursday while Ponyboy was struggling through his math homework. The caller ID was unknown; Ponyboy answered, thinking it was simply a wrong number.

"Hello?"

"Ponyboy Curtis," a familiar voice said. "You are to meet me at four thirty tomorrow afternoon at Nature's Park. Fail to do so, and your family pays for it."

Click. The person hung up.

Ponyboy sat there for who knows how long, staring at the wall. He didn't notice when Soda and Steve started running up and down the halls, or when Darry started screaming at them for one reason or another, or when Mickey Mouse started blaring.

With a shaky hand, he placed the phone on his desk.

Normal people had to worry about math tests and research papers and drama with friends. He had to worry about getting jumped and courts and now, mysterious phone calls. If only he could be a normal kid, if only for a day.

Should he go? If he didn't, Soda and Darry could get hurt, but if he did go, he could get hurt, which would in turn, hurt Soda and Darry.

Decisions.

Well, what did they want? Revenge? Well, he hadn't ticked anyone off recently; there was the whole Bob thing, but that was months ago! If it were about that, surely this person would've gotten revenge by now.

What else could it be?

Only one way to find out.

Ponyboy slipped his switchblade into his pocket before plastering a fake grin on his face and going to hang with the guys. He may not be able to do so after tomorrow.

* * *

Gabe hung up the phone and hopped in the car.

The plan was genius, if a bit complicated.

You see, the plan had two phases. Phase 1 was revenge on Sodapop Curtis and Tiffany Anderson, but this phase was simple.

He would kidnap Ponyboy Curtis and hold him for ransom. Soda was incredibly close to his little brother, and Tiffany probably saw him as a little sibling. The worry would nearly drive them insane, and the money issues afterward would be the icing on the cake.

Phase 2 was revenge on Carly, but he was still working out the kinks in that.

The best part was that the kid wouldn't tell. Too loyal for his own good.

"Don't trust anyone," Terrance agreed from the passenger seat. "They'll stab you in the back."

Gabe smiled. "Got that right."

* * *

 _What'd you think? Who do you think Terrance is- an accomplice, a friend, a hallucination? Also, I'm struggling with some writers block. Any ideas would be greatly beneficial, thank you!_


	15. All These Lives

_sorry for the delay, but I think this chapter will be more than enough to make up for it (and next chapter for that matter)_

 _ALSO: I did get inspired for some parts of this chapter by a Guest review, particularly the part about Terrance. Thank you for the ideas!_

 _WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, MINOR VIOLENCE_

 ** _Disclaimer: I am not rich, and if I owned the Outsiders, I would be. Pretty self explanatory._**

* * *

 _Never gonna let you take my world from me_

 _The world outside these walls may know you're breathing_

 _But you ain't comin' in_

 _Posters hung on building walls_

 _Of missing faces_

 _Months go by without the calls_

 _The clues, or traces_

-"All These Lives" by Daughtry

* * *

The leaves crunched under Ponyboy's feet as he crossed the park, fingering his switchblade in his front pocket and glaring at the very few people he saw.

Nature's Park was just an ordinary park really with an old, rickety play set, benches with chipped paint, and tall trees towering over civilians and dropping leaves to the grass below. It was a beautiful park, but hardly anyone ever went there. Carlson Park just down the street had newer play equipment and more comfortable benches, so everyone went to that park instead of this one.

This person had known that. This person was smart, and when going against people, you fear the smart ones, not the intimidating ones. Ponyboy could only hope that he was smarter.

The caller hadn't told him exactly where to meet him, but Ponyboy guessed that it would be the least populated area of the park, which happened to be beside a back road.

Ponyboy leaned against the tree and waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

A palm smacked over his mouth as burly arms lifted him off of his feet, and the young boy screamed, more out of surprise than anything else. Still, Ponyboy had expected something like this.

Kicking his legs, Ponyboy wiggled his arms free, and in a flash, his switchblade was in his hand, glinting in the afternoon sun. Pony stabbed downward, the blade digging into the kidnapper's arm, not deep enough to do real damage but deep enough to hurt.

Pony let go of the handle and threw off his kidnapper, leaving him to yank the knife from his arm and grasp it to stop the bleeding.

However, Ponyboy hadn't counted on an accomplice.

More hands- much stronger hands- grabbed him by the waist and dragged him kicking and screaming to a car parked behind a building.

The trunk was open, and the person threw Ponyboy inside.

A fist connected with Ponyboy's head.

"Lights out, kid," an unfamiliar voice said before the trunk snapped shut.

Lesson learned, Ponyboy thought. Be prepared for anything.

The world went black.

* * *

Soda smirked at Darry, who rolled his eyes, before the middle brother sprinted into the bedroom he shared with Ponyboy and leaped onto the bed.

"Pony, you've been napping long enough! Up you go!" Soda cheered, ripping the blankets off and rolling off the bed with what he thought was his brother in his arms.

The blanket tumbled to the floor, followed by several pillows collapsing on top of Soda.

"What the-" Soda muttered, standing up. "You're not Ponyboy," he pointed out, glaring at the pillows.

No dip, Soda, he could almost imagine Ponyboy saying.

A breeze rustled Soda's hair, and he looked up to see the window wide open.

"Oh, shit," he cursed.

It wasn't like Ponyboy to sneak out. Sometimes he missed curfew (although he'd only done that once since before Windrixville), but he'd never actually snuck out. He was a good kid; he wouldn't do something like that!

Unless he had to...

Soda, working more on instinct than anything else, walked over to Pony's desk and started rifling through the things there; if Pony had a reason to sneak out, he had to have left some kind of clue as to why.

Sodapop Curtis, junior detective.

Not, he almost heard his kid brother snort in his ear.

Soda found nothing, not one scrap of evidence among the papers and the homework littered there.

Soda picked up his brother's favorite book, Gone With The Wind; Darry had gotten it for him after they'd won the court case regarding Bob Shelton's Murder and Darry had still been rewarded custody of them. Pony had read it at least a dozen times in the past two to three months.

Soda sat on the bed, holding the book and wondering where on earth Pony was. Ever the busy body, Soda started rifling through the pages, allowing them to run over his thumb over and over again; the movement helped him think more clearly.

A scrap of paper fell into his lap.

Nature's Park

4:30 PM

Soda checked his watch. It was 4:45.

The blonde stood up and threw on a thin windbreaker before telling Darry Pony had a headache and to let him sleep a bit longer; Soda knew he couldn't hide it from Darry forever, but he at least wanted to go to the park and figure out what the hell was going on first. He, then, told his elder brother he was going to hang out with Steve before leaving the house.

He ran to the DX (it was Soda's day off), where he found Steve starting his car.

"Hey, Steve," he said, knocking on the window. "Can you give me a ride?"

He shrugged as he unlocked the passenger side door. "Sure. Where to?"

"Nature's Park."

Steve raised an eyebrow as he pulled out of the gasoline station. "Why?"

"Ponyboy snuck out. I found this in his book," Soda replied, showing him the thin strip of paper.

Steve chuckled. "That little rugrat is in for it."

"Oh, he is," Soda agreed, "but I'm curious. Pony wouldn't sneak out unless he had to, and why didn't he just tell Darry and I where he was going. It's like I have all the pieces, but I can't connect them."

"That's usually how it is with the kid," Steve pointed out, and Soda nodded.

The two friends drove to the park, and Soda was surprised and slightly scared to see that several cop cars were there.

Steve and him leapt out of the car and dashed over to the crowd. Steve, who loved his car more than his girlfriend, didn't even lock it.

On a normal occasion, Soda would've smirked; he knew that he cared about Ponyboy somewhere deep, deep, _deep_ down.

"What did the victim look like?" An officer was asking an old woman.

"Oh, he was young, probably somewhere around the age of twelve to fourteen. He was scrawny and very pale. He had blonde hair, and he was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and ripped up jeans."

"Excuse me?" Soda called, running over. "Was he... this boy?" He asked, pulling a recent picture of Ponyboy out of his wallet.

The woman nodded. "Yes, that looks like him."

Soda turned to the officer. "He's my brother, Ponyboy Curtis."

The officer raised an eyebrow at the name, but he'd probably heard weirder names because he didn't ask.

"Are you the guardian?" The man asked.

"No, my brother, Darryl, is," Soda said. "Would you like me to call him?"

The officer shook his head. "No. We'll go to your house to speak with him, and I'll tell you everything I know then. Mark!" He called to another officer. "Keep questioning the witnesses!"

"Can do, Sheriff," he called back.

"Alright, kids," the officer- now, the sheriff- said. "I'll follow you in my car."

Steve nodded at him, and the two teens hopped into Steve's car and drove to the Curtis house with the Sheriff right behind them.

They pulled up, and Soda and Steve walked inside, where the entire gang was. Two Bit was in front of the television; Johnny was reading on the couch; Dally was bugging Johnny; Darry was reading the newspaper; and Tiffany was sitting on the couch, but she stood up when Soda walked in.

"Hey, guys," Soda said, tentavely. "Would you mind leaving for a while?"

Two Bit frowned at him in confusion and was about to say something when the Sheriff walked in.

Everyone stared at the officer in shock.

"Soda, Steve, what did you do?" Darry asked them, quietly but sternly.

Soda shook his head, somberly. "We didn't do anything, Darry. It's Ponyboy."

The gang and Tiffany took that as their cue to leave, and they slowly walked outside; Johnny's hands were actually shaking.

Steve patted Soda on the shoulder before exiting the house.

"Are you Darryl Curtis?" The Sheriff asked.

Darry nodded. "I am. What's going on with Ponyboy?"

"I'm afraid there's been a kidnapping in Nature's Park," the Sheriff informed them. "A boy matching your brother's description was taken by two older teenagers, maybe even young adults."

He pulled out a few photographs. "Is this your brother's?"

He showed them a picture of a switchblade, but the blade was covered in blood.

Soda choked up. "Yeah. He's been carrying a blade with him since he got jumped a few months back. W-What's with the blood?"

The Sheriff smiled, bitterly. "Apparently, your brother's quite the fighter. Stuck the blade in one of his kidnapper's arms. Unfortunately, he wasn't counting on the second one. One of the witnesses said the second kidnapper kind of came out of nowhere and took Ponyboy by surprise."

Soda sighed. "Ponyboy knew."

Darry turned to him, confused. "What?"

"I'm not saying he knew about the second guy. He was going to meet somebody, and I'm willing to bet he knew they were up to something. That's why he was able to stick that blade in that guy's arm. He knew it was coming."

Soda handed the officer the slip of paper he'd found.

"I found it hidden in one of his books."

The officer frowned. "Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Ponyboy? Or either of you, perhaps?"

"Well," Darry said, "I know a lot of people who want to _hurt_ Ponyboy, but to go as far as kidnapping... no."

"What about Gabe?" Soda asked. "I mean, he's pretty ticked at us, and Carly said that he's extremely unstable, not to mention the fact that he kidnapped Carly."

"Gabe who?" The Sheriff asked.

"Gabe Boron," Darry answered. "He attacked Soda's girlfriend and then kidnapped his own girlfriend when she wanted to turn him in. We thought he'd skipped town."

The Sheriff nodded. "Can I have a recent photograph of Ponyboy?"

Darry nodded before grabbing Ponyboy's school photo off of the mantal and taking the photo out of the frame.

"Thank you," the Sheriff said. "I'll get back to you if we find anything."

If. Not when.

As soon as the Sheriff left the house, Soda broke down in Darry's arms.

Darry embraced him, and the two of them sunk onto the couch, just sobbing completely.

"He's only fourteen, Darry," Soda whimpered.

"I know," Darry whispered. "Believe me, I know."

"Is he going to come home?" Soda murmured, the question almost muffled by Darry's shirt. He kind of wished that Darry hadn't heard it.

"He has to, Soda. Ponyboy's a fighter; he's going to make it," Darry mumbled. "He has to."

After a while, Soda drifted off, emotionally exhausted, and as soon as Soda's breathing evened out, Darry looked to the ceiling.

"Hey, God, I know I haven't said anything to you in a long time, but please, I've already lost Mom and Dad. I can't lose Ponyboy, too. As if that's not bad enough, losing Ponyboy would be like losing Sodapop, too. Please, bring Ponyboy home. Please."

He didn't notice the small boy with black eyes standing outside the door, tears streaming down his face.

* * *

Ponyboy came to in a dark place.

He was lying down, and when he stretched a hand into the darkness, his fingers tapped against something above his head. He could feel fast movement and unsteady vibrations beneath his back, like tires on a highway.

A trunk. He was in a trunk.

Ponyboy hadn't told many people this, but he was claustrophobic. Maybe it was being in that church in Windrixville, feeling trapped because he couldn't go beyond the back porch. But either way, the claustrophobia started sometime after Bob died.

"NO!" He screamed in uncharacteristic panic. "NO!"

He slammed his hands against the top of the trunk, and he kicked at the walls of the small space.

"NO! NO! NO!" Ponyboy, exhausted and out of breath, allowed himself to slump to the floor. "No... Darry? Soda?... please..."

Ponyboy didn't know how long he was in that trunk, but it was less than an hour after he woke up that the car stopped.

The trunk opened, and Ponyboy prepared himself to attack, but hands grabbed his fists before he could.

The person was fairly young, maybe late teens, early twenties. He wore a black sweatshirt and jeans, but any other features were hidden by the ski mask over his face.

The person raised a fist and in an unfamiliar voice, he smirked, "Time to sleep, Greaser."

And Ponyboy knew no more.

* * *

Tears streamed down her face as she gazed down at her youngest son.

He was blindfolded and unconscious, being thrown over one of his kidnapper's shoulders and taken into a small rundown cabin in the middle of the woods, miles from his home.

"Darryl," she whispered.

"I know, Susan," her husband replied. "I know."

They were dead. They couldn't interfere; they couldn't help.

All Darryl and Susan Curtis could do was embrace each other and cry for their children.

It rained in Oklahoma that day.

* * *

 _I couldn't remember if I'd mentioned Gabe's last name before, so if I said it was something else before, sorry about that. Also, Tiffany will be more involved in the next chapter, so for those of you that are looking forward to seeing more of her, she'll be here next chapter._

 _The theme song for next chapter is 'Hymn for the Missing' by RED. If you want a bit of a preview on what it's going to be about, you can listen to that song._


End file.
